Fortune Favors the Bold
by koria27
Summary: On Halloween, Voldemort chooses to attack the Longbottoms instead of the Potters, marking Neville as the Boy-Who-Lived. A world where everyone cares a lot less about what happens to Harry Potter. Everything is different, except not really. T for language, though it's not too bad.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! So here is what i think could have happened if Voldemort had attacked the Longbottoms that night instead of the Potters with a few more personal touches for fun. There is a slight backstory for Harry, especially regarding his name. But it will all be explained later and it's not really a huge deal to the story. So if it's really killing you not to know, just let me know and I can tell you guys.

Also, not remaining entirely true to the story, I bumped up the timeline quite a bit. It takes place more in the late 2000's. I hope to put a more modern twist on it.

I do not own Harry Potter, but I think the world is very neat.

I hope you guys like it!

xxxx

Hadrian wasn't one for competition; when he was six and still lived at the orphanage he'd seen some of the ridiculous contests the older boys had engaged in and vowed to never be that stupid.

That being said, he was going to _win this shit._

As far as troublemaking went, Hadrian didn't do pranks; he preferred to be much more direct when dealing with people, whether it was simply driving them up to the wall or a punch in the face. Harry had whittled back-talk and well timed eye rolls down to a _science_. If not for the fear of actually getting suspended and expelled from his Muggle school, he would have taken getting detentions to an entirely new level.

Fortunately, Hogwarts didn't seem to have any actual real world consequences to repeated disrespect and disobedience.

The twins didn't know it yet, but Harry was going to blow them out of the water.

He hefted his bag on his shoulder slightly. He had spent a good chunk of time wandering the dungeons. He _knew_ where the Potions room was, but he wanted to make an impression and to do so, he felt it would be prudent to be outlandishly late to his first class.

Besides, Hogwarts was interesting. Harry had noticed that the dungeons held a distinct lack of portraits, but a disproportionate amount of ghosts wandering the halls. Which was especially strange, as Hogwarts had been built as a school. Not once had the dungeons in the castle been used for imprisonment, torture, or execution.

Many of the first years had been frightened of the ghastly figures wandering the corridors, many of them a grotesque image, reflections of their manner of death. But Harry hadn't let it bother him. They probably just did it to scare the firsties. Nearly Headless Nick was the Gryffindor ghost and despite his near-beheading, was a rather cheerful fellow. Not all ghosts could be doom and gloom and Harry seriously doubted they would allow a mentally disturbed ghost _actually_ hang about with a bunch of defenseless children.

"... _bewitching_ the mind, _ensnaring_ the senses...I can teach you how to bottle-," Harry swung the door open to the dim, windowless Potions room without any warning. He blinked at the sudden change to such eerie lighting and shifted his bag on his shoulder again.

"Er, hello. I got lost." He lied. "This is Potions, right?"

The class turned to stare at him, all silent as the grave. Harry knew immediately he'd interrupted an important moment for the professor.

Harry was unprepared for the tall, greasy-haired man to spin around so fast, his cloak billowing about him and making him look like a giant bat. Harry jerked back, eyes widening as the Slytherin Head of House glared at him, dark, shrewd stare framed by long greasy locks. Professor Severus Snape was not a good-looking man. He had a large hooked nose, with jowls that flopped ever so slightly as he moved, and a weak chin. His hair was frankly disgusting, greasy and limp. And of course, there was the sparkling personality Harry had already heard so much about.

" _Gryffindor,"_ Snape hissed.

Harry had thought the twins had been kidding about his flare for the dramatic.

"Er, yes sir." Harry offered.

" _Take your seat_." He jabbed sharply at a seat in the back next to a dark-skinned boy with his hair cropped close to his skull. Harry climbed the small steps leading to the back of the room and took his seat next to the Slytherin boy.

"What is your name, _boy_?" Snape demanded, voice low and grating.

"Hadrian-,"  
"Potter?" Snape sneered. Harry blinked in surprise

"No. Kasinger. Hadrian Kasinger." Snape's eyes widened momentarily, but he waved his hand dismissively.

"Now, as I was saying before Mr. Kasinger so _rudely_ interrupted me..." He went to finish up his speech, but whatever trance the class had been in before was broken. Snape's typical intimidation tactics would no longer work. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Wow, Snape truly was a greasy git. Harry had a few doubts prior to this class, but as Snape had begun the class with insulting his students, Harry was beginning to get the feeling that Snape was a bigger douchebag than he thought imaginable.

Harry figured Snape was one of those teachers who didn't enjoy anything about teaching, let alone the children themselves, but it was the only job that would give him tenure.

"LONGBOTTOM!" Snape snapped and every member of the class jumped in their seats as Snape spun to glare at the slightly pudgy celebrity. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Harry frowned. Yeah, sure maybe Longbottom, the _Boy-Who-Lived_ , was literally considered a national treasure, but he was still eleven and it wasn't fair to call him out like that. Besides, there was no way _anyone_ in the class would know the answer to that question.

Well, except for Granger.

The bushy-haired girl had thrown her hand into the air the moment Snape had spoken. She had clearly misunderstood that this wasn't a question Snape had asked of the class. Granger didn't comprehend that Snape was specifically targeting a student and that no matter how smart she was, he was going to see her as an interference. This would get her into his bad books from day one.

"I-I'm sorry sir. I don't know." Longbottom answered meekly, head hanging low. Snape's lips curled into a sneer and Harry scowled.

"Clearly, fame isn't everything." Snape leered at Longbottom. "Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Longbottom shook his head, biting his lip. Granger waved her hand frantically and Harry groaned, rubbing his forehead. The boy next to him glanced his way but Harry ignored it. He wished someone would tell her to put her hand down. This class was quickly turning into a clusterfuck.

"I don't know, sir." Snape smirked in response.

"For your information, _Longbottom_. You would find a bezoar in the stomach of a goat. And it is an antidote to most poisons." Harry was getting fed up with this. Granger was waving her hand in the air frantically, not understanding that what she did today was going to affect how people perceived her for the next seven years and Longbottom looked like he was about to cry. No Gryffindors were doing anything to assist their new housemates who so desperately needed their help.

 _House of the Brave, my ass_.

Harry raised his hand. Snape turned to look at him slowly, arching one eyebrow curious at Harry.

"And what do you have to say? Mr. Kasinger, was it?"

"Yes sir. I actually have a question, sir, regarding the things you have just said."

"I'm not taking questions right now, Mr. Kasinger, so I suggest you lower your hand until such a time comes about." Snape responded smugly.

"Oh, no sir. I think you'll take mine." Snape straightened his back, eyes narrowing.

"And what would your question be?"

"I was just wondering sir. Were you bullied as a child and now you use your position of authority to assert your perceived superiority over school children under your care?" The room went completely still. Harry could have heard a pin drop. He decided he was going to talk to fill the silence. "I mean, I can't think of any other reason that you would be such a total _asshole_ to a bunch of _children_."

Snape had gone kind of purple, Harry observed.

"Mr. Kasinger-," Snape started out in a low voice and Harry figured that if he didn't talk now, he would never get another chance to.

"Please, sir, I'm sure that if you feel familiar enough with this class to ridicule and torment them shamelessly, you feel familiar enough to use my first name, instead of using my surname as a mechanism to constantly remind me of the authority you hold over me, no matter how misplaced that authority has been."

Harry had never been more grateful for the awkward eloquence Muggle school had instilled in him when speaking to a teacher. It was so much more effective to humiliate Snape with- it gave the impression that he was intellectually on par with Snape, even if he really was only a clever little shit that had figured out how to skate by somewhere in between 'gifted' and 'not really trying'.

"Mr. Kasinger..." Harry was seriously considering hiding underneath the desk.

XXXX

Harry hadn't gone in expecting four detentions and a loss of fifty points from Gryffindor, but he was almost sure he could double that next time.

XXXX

He was right.

XXXX

McGonagall looked like she was going to cry when Harry asked if House Points could go negative.

Harry heard Weasley 6 whispering at night to Longbottom that the twins _had_ cried, tears of joy for the newest generation of Hogwarts pranksters.

Harry wasn't really one for pranks, but if making trouble was the competition, he was planning on winning.

XXXX

It was two weeks in, and Harry didn't really have many friends.

Not that he expected to, honestly. He was hardly a social butterfly. Sure, Seamus Finnegan and him had hit it off pretty well at the Welcoming Feast, but Seamus and Dean were joined at the hip nowadays and Harry knew he had no chance of finding somewhere to fit in there that wasn't awkward third wheel. Harry had not gotten along well with Ron Weasley, but that was okay since he had quickly taken the place as Neville Longbottom's best friend. And as for Longbottom himself, Harry hadn't talked to Longbottom at all, other than the introductions exchanged the first night.

Most of the other Gryffindor boys had known each other since they were kids and had their cliques formed prior to attending Hogwarts, so Harry didn't even try there. And Harry was quickly becoming aware of the fact that Gryffindor/Other House friendships were not really a common thing.

Oddly enough, Harry had found a place with Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin first year and his Potions and Transfiguration partner. It had started out as more of a partnership than anything else; Harry antagonized Snape, who would otherwise outright fail him (but they shared the same grade and he wouldn't dare fail Blaise), and Harry's presence in Transfiguration negated the slight but still prominent anti-Slytherin bias obvious in McGonagall's class.

But now they laughed more and smiled more and shared more of the day's happenings. It was kind of nice, actually.

Harry had also made a few friends outside of his year. The twins and Lee Jordan, obviously, and an easygoing Hufflepuff by the name of Cedric Diggory that occasionally hung around with them. Harry had spoken to Nymphadora Tonks a few times, who he hit it off with fairly well, but she was largely concerned with her N.E.W.T.s and had less time to goof off.

So yeah, he had friends. The twins, Lee, Blaise, Tonks, Cedric, Dean, Seamus. But he didn't really have a friend _group_ , people that were special to him. Close to him, in ways that regular friends just aren't.

That was _fine_ with Harry.

But it still felt a little lonely sometimes.

XXXX

"Kasinger! Scrub harder!" Snape snapped from his desk, where he was grading papers. "You should be done with that cauldron by now! Have you _ever_ cleaned anything by hand?" Harry frowned but decided not to respond. He had been scrubbing residue out of cauldrons for close to an hour now. It was ridiculous, especially when Harry knew that such a menial task could be performed easily with magic. It was probably safer too, considering that some of the potion residue was highly toxic.

"Boy! Are you deaf as well as stupid?" Snape hissed when Harry didn't answer. Harry leaned out of the cauldron and settled onto his heels. He peered curiously up at Snape.

"I didn't realize you wanted me to answer."

"So you blatantly ignored me?"

"It wasn't hard, sir." Harry saw the quill in Snape's hand snap and he snickered. He leaned back into the cauldron and resumed his scrubbing. He scrubbed for a while, listening to the constant scratching of quill against paper as Snape wrote furiously on their essays. That was when he noticed something odd. He pulled himself out of the cauldron, staring at the brush Snape had given him.

"Professor?" Harry called out.

" _What_?"

"Is this supposed to be disintegrating?" He lifted it into the air so Snape could see. There was something green and bubbly on it and it was slowly eating away at the brush. Harry heard the screech of a chair against the ground as Snape stood up and shoved his seat back suddenly.

"KASINGER! GET YOUR HANDS OFF THAT RIGHT NOW!" He roared. Harry gently set the brush down on the lip of the cauldron and got to his feet, backing away, hands up. Snape darted from behind his desk to examine the cauldron and Harry's hands, to make sure he hadn't touched any of it.

"I didn't get any of it on my gloves. I've been careful since it's potion residue. Contrary to what you believe, I have actually done cleaning by hand before. What a revolutionary concept." Harry said icily. Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"Any more back talk and I'll give you another detention, Kasinger."

"I'm sure you'll be glad to have more clean cauldrons." Harry responded, turning away and rolling his eyes. He carefully stripped his gloves off. "And my hour is up. Have fun taking care of toxic potion residue." He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, heading for the door.

"Kasinger." Harry twisted to look at Snape.

"Yes?"

"You will come here the same time tomorrow." Snape informed him sharply.

"I look forward to another near death experience, sir." Harry said with a nod, before walking out the door, rolling his eyes once he was out of view. At this point, Harry had probably spent more time with Snape than he had in his own dorm and that was terrifying.

They were three weeks in and Harry was up to fourteen detentions. He was beginning to make a schedule, with times he could fit a detention in. He had made a point not to antagonize any other teacher, for the sole purpose that it would drive Snape insane. He would only know Harry as a troublemaker, and it would drive him up the wall to see that no other teacher felt it prudent to punish Harry for his disrespectful behavior.

Harry had seen Snape's face turn purple three times now and it was wonderful.

XXXX

Flying lessons were great.

Harry hadn't thought he would like flying, because you sat on a rickety stick of wood and flew several hundred feet above the ground with no protection of any kind at high speeds.

But he did, and he liked to think that was part of how great flying lessons turned out to be.

They were lined up in two rows, Slytherins on one side, Gryffindors on the other, which was psychologically disconcerting. Harry stood across from Blaise, who would stare at Harry uncomfortably whenever Draco Malfoy said something stupid, conceited, or rude, which was often.

They'd been standing there for a while now, so long that some kids had started pulling up grass or kicking out clumps of dirt. Madam Hooch was chronically late, though no one thought to mention that to her. She was five foot two, but had a steely demeanor similar to that of McGonagall's to match her steel grey hair.

"Now, on the count of three, I want you to all yell, UP!" Madam Hooch commanded. Harry had stopped questioning wizard logic at this point, though he saw no possible way yelling UP could relate to flying.

Shouts immediately filled the air on her command, and Harry watched as Malfoy called UP twice. The broom flew into his hand with a firm _thud_ the second time, and he smirked in a self-satisfied and smug manner. Blaise stared at Harry uncomfortably. Harry snickered.

"Up." He called out for the first time and nearly dropped it when the handle smacked into his hand. He glanced up at Blaise, who raised a curious eyebrow at Harry. It had taken Blaise a few tries, but he didn't say anything. Harry shrugged back and looked over his own House. It took most people five or six times before they got it, but Neville and Granger were having a lot of trouble with theirs. There brooms would rise a foot or so off the ground, before rolling around hopelessly.

Finally, after ten minutes, Neville's smacked into his hand, but Granger couldn't get her broom to come up. Eventually, she ducked down, her cheeks burning in shame, and picked it up.

"Now, I want you all to put one leg over the broom, lean back, hold on tight, and wait for my command!" Madam Hooch demanded. The class did so, almost robotically. She adjusted a few stances. "Now, when I yell go, I want you to kick off slightly- very gently so you will only be a foot or two above the ground, and hover." She glanced around. "Everyone ready?" There were some nods and some frantic head shakings. "G-!"

With a surprised scream, Neville Longbottom went flying into the air.

His broom took him on a wild ride of twist, turns, loop-de-loops, getting higher and higher. Madam Hooch screamed at him to come down, but Harry doubted Longbottom could even hear her over his screaming. Madam Hooch ran underneath him, trying to follow him and the class followed, intensely engaged in the happenings of today's flying lessons. Finally, Longbottom slammed into the side of the building and fell twelve feet before his robe was caught on an outcropping torch-holder. From there, his robes tore and he fell to the ground from a height of about eight feet, landing on his wrist with a loud _crack!_

Harry winced.

Madam Hooch rushed over, waving the class back with her hand. But the class was far too excited to see the Boy-Who-Lived after such a disaster to bother listening to her.

"STAY BACK!" She screeched as everyone continued to press closer. She helped Longbottom up, who was whimpering in pain. "HE'S GOT A BROKEN WRIST! STAY BACK!" Very few students paid heed. She spun around, eyes narrowing. "I WANT ALL OF YOU TO WAIT HERE FOR ME! NO FLYING! I'M TAKING HIM TO THE HOSPITAL WING! ANYONE CAUGHT FLYING WILL LOST FIFTY POINTS AND HAVE DETENTION FOR A WEEK!"

 _That's cute_.

She disappeared into the building with Longbottom, holding him by his shoulder and taking great care to make sure he didn't jostle his wrist. He was whimpering quietly, face twisted up in an expression of pain, eyes avoiding his wrist.

The class waited patiently for about a minute before losing interest. They wandered back into the field, friends falling in with friends. There was no teacher to tell them where to stand, but the divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor was still there.

Harry fell in with Blaise, to share a meaningless conversation about trivial things that neither of them were truly interested in. But Harry had noticed quickly that Blaise didn't talk about anything important where people could hear him.

A loud voice interrupted them.

Draco Malfoy had been gathering a small crowd about him for some time now, but apparently they weren't large enough for him. He had raised his voice as to attract the attention of the Gryffindors specifically, bragging loudly. He was holding up a clear, red-tinted ball that filled his entire hand, occasionally tossing it in the air and catching it. He smiled smugly at his small audience.

"Look what Longbottom dropped!" He crowed. Harry snorted.

"A thief and a bastard." He muttered to Blaise.

"I cannot _believe_ the Boy-Who-Lived is such a buffoon!" He was holding up the Remembrall Longbottom had cheerfully showed his housemates at breakfast. "It's amazing he could remember to hold onto _this!_ " Harry glanced distastefully at Malfoy. The teacher had been gone all of six minutes and the field had already devolved into _Lord of the Flies_.

"Y-you _stole_ that!" Granger spluttered, horrified. Malfoy grinned smugly.

"It's only stealing if I don't give it back."

"Do you intend to?" She demanded, taking a few steps forward, trying to look more threatening. She was not achieving that, however, given that she had been hugging herself a moment beforehand.

Malfoy placed a contemplative hand on his chin.

"Hmm...I'll have to think about that."

"Give it _back!_ " She exclaimed, lunging to grab the Remembrall out of his hand.

"Take it from me, _mudblood!_ " A small whisper ran through the crowd. Harry didn't know what that meant, but from the shocked expressions on peoples' faces, he figured it was bad. Granger looked upset, and Harry didn't think she knew exactly what it meant either. She marched forward to grab it, but he shoved her in the chest and held it slightly out of reach.

"Malfoy, you greasy slimy _git!_ " Weasley 6 roared, cheeks reddening. "Give it back! It's not yours! It's Neville's!"

"Are _you_ gonna take it from me, Weasley? You can try, but if you break it you buy it, and I'm afraid you'd lose the house!"

That was a low blow.

Weasley's face began to burn with shame, vastly different from the angry red dust across his cheeks present before. It was childish and stupid and it made Harry angry. He didn't have many feelings about Weasley one way or another, but he knew what it was like. To have nothing and to have everyone around you know it. It was embarrassing in the strangest way.

Harry trailed off the conversation he was having with Blaise and darted through an opening in the small crowd, and straight up into Malfoy's personal space.

 _CRACK!_

Malfoy's head snapped to the side, eyes wide. He promptly dropped the Remembrall as he let out a strangled scream of pain, hands coming up to nurse his already reddening jaw. He clutched it as he spun to stare at Harry, who was rubbing his knuckles and glaring at the blonde boy. His eyes were filled with horror, his mouth opening slightly to speak. Some blood dribbled out of his mouth and he choked for a second, before he spat a mouthful of blood out, probably from biting his tongue. Harry glanced down to the patch of grass slick with blood and snorted when he spotted a little white tooth stained in red.

"Oh my god." Someone whispered. Harry bent down and picked up the Remembrall.

"I'll make sure this gets back to Longbottom." Harry announced, pocketing it.

"Y-YOU HIT ME!" Malfoy shrieked thickly, through a mouth full of blood. Harry nodded.

"Yes. That's what happens when you steal and insult others."

"YOU LITTLE FUCKING MUDBLOOD!" Malfoy screamed. It had become clear relatively quickly that physical aggression was not a very large part of wizard culture. Harry suspected Malfoy had never been hit in his life. Meanwhile, Harry had been scrapping it with the bigger boys for years now, taking advantage of bony knuckles, grippy fingers, and sheer viciousness.

"Get out of here before I hit you again. It'll be messier if I break something." Harry snapped, turning on his heel and walking away, back to Blaise. He inspected his knuckles quietly. His hand hurt, but he didn't think he'd hit Malfoy hard enough to fracture something. Maybe he did. He'd find out soon enough. He sidled up to Blaise, who turned to him and gave him a funny look.

"How's the hand?" He inquired.

"Nothing that can't be fixed."

"Hn."

"PROFESSOR SNAPE IS GOING TO _KILL_ YOU!" Malfoy screeched. Harry glanced up at the boy who was clutching his bloody mouth still.

"Good. I need a few more detentions if I'm going to beat the previous record." He'd weaseled the information out of McGonagall. He remembered _that_ conversation.

" _And what about the four detentions you've received, Mr. Kasinger?" Harry snorted and flashed a grin up at her._

" _I'm looking to break some records. You wouldn't happen to know the Weasley twins' current standing, would you?" Harry could swear he saw a trace of a smile on her face._

" _I'm afraid I can't condone that kind of behavior, Mr. Kasinger. Next time, try not to bring the rest of the house into it." Harry rolled his shoulders and shrugged._

" _I guess I'll ask them. You don't think they'd be the type to give me some outrageous number, just to see if I could do it, do you?"_ _That was the first time Harry had ever heard Blaise laugh; it was so sudden and loud that it seemed to have surprised Blaise himself._

 _McGonagall looked a little pale._

" _The current record is 89 in one year. Please do not make this a competition."_

 _Too fucking late._

"YOU LITTLE BASTARD, MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!"

XXXX

"Mr. Kasinger." McGonagall was watching him over her glasses, eyes cold, face grim. Snape was sitting protectively next to Malfoy, absolutely livid. "Did you or did you not punch Mr. Malfoy in the face?" Malfoy was glaring at Harry from his seat, his chin stained with blood and his face twisted into a grimace of pain.

"Yes." Harry responded tonelessly. "I did."

McGonagall had not been expecting Harry to admit it.

She straightened up abruptly, eyes widening, while Snape leaned forward and begin to hiss.

"See! The little brat admits he did it!" He spat, glaring at Harry, who shrugged.

"Mr. Kasinger, why on earth did you think it was appropriate to hit Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall demanded, looking horrified that one of her lions had admitted to such appalling behavior. All the teachers knew he was serving a ridiculous amount of detentions with Snape, but his behavior was always so good around them, as were his grades, that they had a hard time believing he was truly a troublemaker.

Harry shrugged again in response.

"He's a thief, a blood supremacist, and a downright bastard. So I hit him." Snape turned purple. His voice started low, but it got louder and louder as he went on.

"You think you can go around insulting my student _now_ you little brat, especially with the position you're in-!"

"Severus!" McGonagall snapped. "That's enough!" She slowly turned back to Harry. "You said he was a thief? What exactly did Mr. Malfoy steal?" Harry shrugged for a third time.

"He stole Longbottom's Remembrall, bragged about it, and insulted him." McGonagall blinked at Harry for a moment.

"I didn't!" Malfoy cut in, but Snape silenced him with a hand.

"So you hit him." McGonagall asked carefully.

"So I hit him." Harry confirmed.

"I'm sure Mr. Malfoy was just holding onto it for Longbottom." Snape sniffed. Harry straightened up in his seat and narrowed his eyes at Snape.

"On what grounds do you conclude that?" Snape glowered at Harry.

"On the grounds that you are a known troublemaker who has insulted and talked back to me in front of my class and continues to give me lip at any given opportunity. Mr. Malfoy is, however, a star pupil." Malfoy looked so satisfied with himself that Harry wanted to punch him again. "He is polite to all of his teachers and receives excellent grades. Meanwhile, you are on the fast track to failing my class and not even Mr. Zabini can keep you afloat. Additionally, there is a strong Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry and it would not be a stretch to believe that you were jealous of Mr. Malfoy's performance and took this opportunity for your own satisfaction." Snape finished, with a triumphant expression. He glanced to McGonagall, who was looking hesitant. On one hand, she wanted to believe Harry. Harry got the sense that she liked him quite a bit; he was good at Transfiguration and she had a bit of a soft spot for the troublemakers. But on the other hand, Snape was right. And McGonagall had to take an objective stance.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

 _What about witnesses?_ Harry wanted to say. _Granger wouldn't lie to you and she can tell you exactly what happened._

But honestly, he didn't care. Malfoy was a jerk and he was glad he had punched him. He'd willingly take the punishment anyday. Besides, it would certainly rattle a particular Slytherin's cage to know that there was literally nothing to be done that would serve as a deterrent to Harry.

"I don't care if you don't believe me. Malfoy was being a jerk and I'd do it again if I had to. Punish me if you must, but this is hardly about Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry or me being _jealous_ of him." Harry declared. He turned in his chair to face Malfoy, who looked a little shaken at the sudden dark expression on Harry's face. "I'm just letting you know, Malfoy. If you ever call Granger a mudblood again, I'll pound you into the fucking ground." Harry didn't know what it meant exactly, but he wasn't about to let the greasy little bastard get away with what he was pretty sure were blood supremacist slurs.

And the best thing was, Malfoy looked rattled to the core. He knew that when Harry said something, he meant it.

"Mr. Kasinger!" McGonagall exclaimed. "Watch your language! You are already in enough trouble as it is!" Harry knew he was not helping his case by insulting Malfoy, but once again, he simply didn't care. Hogwarts didn't have real life consequences.

"See!" Snape shouted. "He is a violent, aggressive, antagonizing brat! I have tried to explain this to you on multiple occasions, but you have never seen what he truly is!"

 _And what about what you truly are, Professor Snape? An insecure bully who gets satisfaction out of tormenting children?_

Harry probably _was_ a violent, aggressive, antagonizing brat, but whatever he was, Malfoy and Snape were far worse. He let out a sigh and tilted his head, bracing it against the palm of his hand.

"It doesn't matter what I say and I already know that." Harry responded in a bored voice. "So let's get on with it. What's my punishment?" McGonagall postured and brushed unseen dust from her lap. She pursed her lips as she examined Harry.

"I don't want to give you a detention-," McGonagall began.

" _WHAT?!"_ McGonagall sighed.

"For Heaven's sake, Severus. Calm down. My point is simply that we have already established that detentions aren't an effective form of punishment. What do you suggest we do? _Besides_ expelling him?" Snape shifted his weight in his chair.

"He could..." Harry almost laughed. They really couldn't think of what to do with him. Obviously, Hogwarts had never heard of in school suspension and out of school suspension was very difficult at a boarding school.

"No extracurriculars?" McGonagall suggested. Harry outright snorted.

" _What_ extracurriculars?" McGonagall frowned, brow furrowing. Hogwarts did have a huge lack of extracurriculars.

"Severus, we just have to give him detention." She concluded.

"Not with you." Snape said instantly. "You'll be too soft with him."

"Not with _you_ , your detentions don't serve as a deterrent."

"Pomona and Filius would be far too lenient with him; they don't think he's a troublemaker." Snape insisted. Harry watched the two of them go back and forth with a bored expression, ignoring Malfoy's glares.

"He's too young for detention with Hagrid." McGonagall pointed out. "He could legitimately be killed." Harry straightened up at that, looking back and forth incredulously between the two professors.

 _The fuck kind of school is this?_

"Poppy perhaps?" McGonagall suggested. "She will certainly put him to work. And Mr. Kasinger might even learn a thing or two about healing as opposed to hurting." Snape sat there contemplatively for a few moments, occasionally turning his head to glare at Harry.

"Fine." He said begrudgingly. "Six detentions with Poppy." That would put Harry at twenty detentions so far this school year. "And fifty points from Gryffindor." McGonagall didn't look happy, but she nodded. She gave Harry one last disappointed look before verbalizing her approval.

"That sounds good. Mr. Kasinger, if you don't already have a detention scheduled with Professor Snape, report to the infirmary at 6:30. Madam Pomfrey will be notified. Severus, if you would please, take Mr. Malfoy up to the infirmary. I have a few things to talk to Mr. Kasinger about." Snape sneered at Harry as he got up and led Malfoy out the door, a hand on the small blonde boy's shoulder. The door clicked shut behind them.

The moment they were gone, McGonagall frowned deeply at Harry.

"Mr. Kasinger, is there anything you would like to tell me?" Harry shrugged.

"Only that Hermione Granger could have told you everything that happened." He said flippantly. McGonagall's eyes widened in shock and her mouth opened slightly.

"You were telling the truth." Harry shot her a smug look. "Mr. Kasinger, why didn't you say anything? Some of the detentions will still have to stand, but a more equal punishment could be distributed to both you and Mr. Malfoy-,"

"It doesn't matter." Harry cut her off. He paused for a moment. "Professor. I already know who you'll listen to when it comes down to it." He rolled his shoulders and turned his hands so that his palms were facing the ceiling. "Nothing you do to change my punishment at this point matters." McGonagall lifted her chin slightly, pushing her glasses further up her nose.

"Mr. Kasinger." She began in a serious voice. "Professor Snape is a teacher here. I am sorry, but his word carries more weight than that of an eleven year old, especially in the case of physical aggression. A witness is a different story but-,". Harry cut his Head of House off again.

"Professor Snape is a bully. He enjoys tormenting students and right then, he insulted me several times in a fashion that is completely inappropriate for someone in his position. And you didn't say anything about it."

"And what about _your_ language, Mr. Kasinger?" Harry blinked at McGonagall.

"I'm eleven. He's a full grown man. My behavior can be punished and corrected. Who's going to punish him?" McGonagall seemed taken aback. If someone was actually policing Snape's behavior, Harry had no doubt that the man would have been fired years ago. As the situation was, however, Snape had been allowed to run free.

"Mr. Kasinger-,"

"I'm done talking." Harry announced. "We're beating a dead horse here. Interview Granger or don't, I don't care. I'll take my punishment as it is and Malfoy's already lost a few teeth and a lot of face. Increase my punishment for my arrogance or not, I don't care about that either. I'm done with this." Harry stood up. McGonagall gaped like a fish for a moment, before trying to talk to him again. He ignored her as he walked out the door. She didn't come after him.

XXXX

"Hey! Longbottom!" Harry called as he jogged to catch up with Longbottom and Weasley 6. The two of them were meandering through the halls to class, looking more than a little lost. Longbottom stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Harry's voice though, twisting around to face him. His face was red, dark hair plastered against his forehead, covering his scar. Longbottom had a tendency to tilt his head towards his feet and bite his lip uncomfortably. "How's the wrist?" Harry inquired when he was closer, dropping into a fast walk.

"Fine." Longbottom said to his feet. It was disconcerting. Harry dug into his pocket.

"Here, I've got your Remembrall." He tossed it to Longbottom, who nearly dropped it trying to catch it, surprised. Weasley 6 was watching Harry suspiciously, as if he suspected Harry might have ulterior motives.

Longbottom stared at the Remembrall in his chubby hands.

"I thought I'd lost this forever." He admitted.

"Well, now you've got it back. Hope your trip to the Hospital Wing was pleasant. I've heard mending bones can be a downright bitch." Harry replied amicably. "Anyways, I've gotta get to class. Follow if you like. And feel better, you look a little pale, Longbottom. Later, Weasley. If you get a chance, tell your brothers I'm up to twenty and on a roll. They'll know what I mean." Harry had gotten a few steps down on the staircase when Weasley suddenly burst out of his silence.

"You punched Malfoy!" Harry paused and spun around on the stairs, peering up curiously at Weasley. Longbottom's mouth had dropped open and he was staring at his Remembrall again, like he couldn't believe what Harry had done to get it.

"Yeah." He admitted. "What about it?" Weasley looked confused.

"Why? Why did you do that?" Harry shrugged at Weasley.

"Lots of reasons. He was being a jerk. I didn't like it so I knocked out his teeth." Weasley gaped. "You coming to class or what?" Harry asked abruptly. "We'll be late if we wait any longer."

"A-aren't you in trouble?" Longbottom stuttered, eyes round like a dinner plate.

"Eh." Longbottom glanced back at his Remembrall.

"This is my fault, isn't it?" He whispered. Harry shook his head.

"Don't sweat it. Wasn't you. It was just Malfoy. If I didn't beat the shit out of him today, I would've done it tomorrow."

"Th-th-thank you." Longbottom mumbled. Harry waved a hand dismissively.

"You don't need to thank me. You guys are my housemates. We stick together, y'know?"

XXXX

Harry was beginning to realize how violent and dangerous Hogwarts really was. In his spare time now, he was serving detention with Madam Pomfrey, with a few Snape interludes. He wasn't around all the time, but he'd been around enough to see just how many people came in on a regular basis. Quidditch was horrifying; people came in with cracked skulls, broken bones, concussions, internal organ damage. One kid had been impaled through the lung with his _rib_. Pomfrey had sent Harry to gather potions and bandages while she treated him in a flurry and Cedric Diggory had been cracking jokes the entire time, even as he choked on his blood.

Most of the time he wasn't around patients; Madam Pomfrey didn't trust him to treat them or even help treat them. She only involved him when it was absolutely necessary, like when Cedric Diggory was choking on his own blood and she needed those potions immediately.

He spent his detentions cleaning up bloody sheets, organizing the potions and herbs, writing the record of all the patients that came in and their injuries.

He also spent his time picking up supplies and dropping off supply orders. He'd mail-ordered a couple things for Madam Pomfrey already and both dropped off and picked up items for her.

Harry vastly preferred picking up orders from Professor Sprout, as the only other option was Snape.

Today he had to go pick up some potions from Snape, which was never fun. At least he was going to stop by to pick up some orders for Sprout and she typically had tea waiting for him.

"Now, do you remember the list?" Madam Pomfrey demanded. They were standing in the blindingly white Hospital Wing, Harry dragging a cart behind him. Harry had unsuccessfully tried to convince her to add some color, but she had added a few plants to the corners of the room. There were about twenty beds lined up. Currently, a few girls were waiting in the corner, sitting on one of them and looking uncomfortable. Harry figured they were here for painkillers; they were hardly the first girls to come here on their periods looking for relief.

That was one advantage of Muggle schooling, at least. So far, Harry didn't think that any of the wizardborn boys had any idea what menstruation was.

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." Harry responded in a bored voice.

"Repeat it to me."

"Four Blood-Replenishing Potions, ten Pepper-Up Potions, two Blemish Blitzers, Four Calming Draughts, six Cough Potions, two cures for boils, two Draughts of Peace, four Dreamless Sleep Potions, two Essences of Dittany, two Fergus Fungal Budges, two Invigoration Draughts, two Lung-Clearing Potions, two Murtlap Essences, an Oculus Potion, two Restoration Potions, two Revival Potions, four Sleeping Draughts, four Wideeye Potions, two Wiggenweld Potions, six Wound-Cleaning Potions, some wormwood and valerian root." Harry listed off tonelessly. Madam Pomfrey beamed at him.

Madam Pomfrey was a bit of a motherly figure, in Harry's opinion. She was supposed to work him hard, and had for most of the first detention. But after she realized that Harry was not nearly as bad as Snape made him out to be, she had warmed up to him considerably, teaching him a few bandage-binding techniques, essential first aid responses, and forcing him to eat during the detention, as she felt he was too skinny.

Even now, she picked up his hoodie from one of the beds and draped it over his shoulders, licking her thumb and adjusting his hair.

"It's cold in the dungeons so bring your sweater." She reminded him. "You may stop for tea with Professor Sprout. Remember to bring the cart with the cushioning charm on it."

"I know, Madam Pomfrey."

"Do you have your wand on you to levitate it?"

"Yes ma'am." She nodded and Harry slipped his arms into his hoodie and zipped it up halfway.

"Be careful and don't antagonize Professor Snape." Harry nodded in response and left the Hospital Wing, dragging the cart behind him. The first years hadn't learned the levitation charm yet, but Madam Pomfrey had taught it to him so he could move the cart up and down the stairs easily.

The trip to the dungeons was never a short one and the switch was uncomfortable. He went from the brightly lit Hospital Wing, with the curtains open and light streaming in and the comforting smell of clean linen to the dark, damp, windowless dungeons that always smelled noxious.

Harry knocked on the office door of the Potions Master, zipping up his hoodie even more. It was always cold in the dungeons.

"Come in." The deep voice practically echoed from the room, down the hallway. Harry opened the door, dragging the cart in behind him. It clacked against the tile floors as he rolled it in.

Snape's office was cluttered and musty, jars of strange things sitting on the numerous shelves. Papers covered his desk, which constantly surprised Harry. Snape always seemed like quite the meticulous man to Harry.

The moment the greasy-haired man spotted Harry, his neutral expression turned to a scowl.

Harry smiled back cheerfully.

"I'm here to pick up for Madam Pomfrey."

"Yes." Snape hissed. "I know." He rose from his seat, cloak billowing about as he did. He gestured for Harry to follow him to the supply closet. Harry followed him in and the two of them remained completely silent while they worked to fill up the cart.

When they were done, Harry stopped and counted the potions in the cart. They were all labelled, but Harry had gotten pretty good at recognizing Potions on sight. He frowned at the cart.

"I need another Blood-Replenishing Potion and another Wideeye Potion." Snape glowered at Harry.

"Are you questioning my counting skills? I gave you four Wideeye Potions and four Blood-Replenishing Potions." Harry shook his head.

"No, you only gave me three of each."

" _Boy._ " Snape's hands were forming fists. "Do not question me." Harry spread his hands out, palms up.

"I counted, twice. I need one more of each. They are kind of important, Professor." Harry maintained.

"I gave you four of each." Snape insisted. Just for the hell of it, Harry peeked in and counted again. Snape refused to look down into the cart.

"I need one more of each." Harry repeated evenly.

" _You little-!_ " He swung his arm out wide in anger. Harry leaned back to avoid being hit in the face with the billowing cloth.

He heard the crash too late.

 _BANG!_

Harry felt the explosion before he heard it, all the air being pushed out of his body. Smoke filled the room instantly and he squeezed his eyes shut against the debris. the sound of glass colliding continued, like raindrops on a window.

There was a sense of weightlessness, a burning in his lungs, and then nothing.

XXXX

Harry woke up to what sounded like humming.

It wasn't actually humming, but voices, footsteps, all sorts of noises had blended together to form what sounded a bit like a strangely comforting hum.

Opening his eyes was difficult. The light burned them whenever he tried to, and everything felt stiff, even his eyelids.

He sniffed, sucking in a breath. The room smelt like clean linen.

And blood.

Harry had seen enough people in the Hospital Wing bleed excessively, but it had never smelled like blood before.

Harry tried to move his stiff body into a sitting position, but immediately thought better of it. He had been injured. Presumably, badly. He couldn't remember anything after the explosion, but he remembered the glass, the shelves- he remembered thinking that he couldn't hear the glass shattering.

 _Oh shit. I probably blew out my eardrums from proximity_.

Harry had been injured plenty of times before, but he was beginning to think this would be the most severe.

He blinked a few more times, trying to clear his vision. Even when his eyelids no longer felt as heavy, the light was bright and it stung.

He let out a cough as the Hospital Wing slowly became clear and loud footsteps broke through the hum.

"Harry!" Madam Pomfrey swam into his view, her normally bright, cheerful face grim. Where there was usually a wide smile and rosy cheeks, she was pale, with her mouth set into a tight, thin line.

"Hi." Harry croaked out. A relieved expression broke over Madam Pomfrey's face. "I take it I was seriously injured?" Madam Pomfrey looked like she wanted to laugh.

"You're okay now." She assured him. "Your Head of House is on their way right now, as if Professor Snape."

Harry jerked up into a sitting position suddenly and Madam Pomfrey let out a cry of shock.

"Why is _he_ coming?" Harry demanded, suppressing a cough from his dry, scratchy throat. "Also, can I have some water?" Madam Pomfrey reached over to his bedside and picked up a glass. Harry twisted to see it. He hadn't even noticed it was there. She handed it to him gingerly, making sure his hands were wrapped securely around the glass before she let it go. It was a lot heavier than he expected, harder to lift to his mouth, but water had never tasted so good.

"Mr. Kasinger, I'm going to be truthful with you." Madam Pomfrey said seriously. "You were injured very badly. The explosion blew out your eardrums, you had multiple gashes and stab wounds from flying glass, you were burnt all along your torso and you broke your ankle. You had serious internal bleeding from the impact, as well as multiple broken ribs. You lost a lot of blood."

"But I'm mostly on the mend?" Harry inquired. Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"You have a little bit more healing to do, but you should be out of here in a few more days. I kept you unconscious for most of the healing, as your injuries would have been extremely painful." Madam Pomfrey explained.

"Do you know what happened?" Madam Pomfrey looked uncomfortable.

"Well..." She took a breath. "Professor Snape accidentally knocked one of the more...explosive jars off the shelf. It hit the ground right in front of you. Both you and Professor Snape were injured, but you suffered the worst injuries. Professor Snape managed to conjure a shield at the last second, but obviously, you could not." Harry snorted. Of course Snape only conjured a shield for himself, not the child he endangered.

Harry had been overjoyed at first that Hogwarts had no real world consequences. It meant he could prank and talk back to his wildest dreams. But the teachers experienced no real world consequences either. Harry imagined Snape wasn't even getting a slap on the wrist. He was still teaching here, wasn't he? If this had been a Muggle school, he would have been fired instantly for endangering a child like that.

Magic made people _so_ stupid.

" _Of_ course." Harry muttered. Pomfrey blinked.

"Professor McGonagall is on her way right now to speak with you." Pomfrey assured him, as if that was supposed to make him feel better about the situation. Harry did not feel reassured in any manner.

XXXX

The short of it was that nothing really changed. Harry had been told that Snape had been "reprimanded" for his actions and was currently "on probation" with a variety of other "privileges" being "taken away". It was all bullshit and McGonagall seemed to honestly believe it. Harry suspected it had been Dumbledore who told her this. And of course, Dumbledore was the Leader of the Light, the Defeater of Grindelwald. Savior of damsels and kisser of babies.

Harry hadn't grown up in the wizarding world, so he hadn't known much about the hype surrounding Dumbledore until his introduction to Hogwarts. Frankly, he hadn't gotten much into it. It was a lot of names he didn't know being thrown around. While it would have been incredibly cool to have an old powerful wizard as their headmaster, protecting them from forces of evil and all kinds of _Lord of the Rings_ bullshit, Harry had been in the system long enough to know that adults always disappointed. You just had to wait.

The thing was, adults weren't honest. They lost the childlike naivety, the solidarity between struggling teenagers, the open, plain honesty among children. Everything was war and death and politics and _deceit_. Some of them hid it with kind eyes and a sense of empathy. Harry spotted it in Dumbledore's twinkling eyes across the Great Hall. The exact moment his opinion of the man began dropping dramatically.

One of his teachers nearly killed an eleven year old and he didn't even bother to show up and explain things in person.

On the bright side, Harry was no longer allowed to attend detention with Snape. All of his detentions were immediately given to Madam Pomfrey or some other teacher. Snape could still assign them though, and Harry had no doubt he would.

At least Madam Pomfrey liked having him around and Harry was learning a few things. Healing magic was important, but barely touched in the Hogwarts curriculum. Harry would very much like to know how to treat wounds, perhaps even save his own life or that of another in some sort of dangerous magical mishap. It was Hogwarts and Harry had been in the Hospital Wing long enough to know that it was bound to happen. Just look at Quidditch; what was supposed to be a fun, extracurricular sport had nearly killed multiple students in the past week.

XXXX

"Harry?" The voice startled him. Harry had been in the midst of taking his shirt off, so when he jerked suddenly, it tangled in his arms. He pulled it off completely and spun around to address Neville Longbottom. Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom had been laying on their beds, which were next to each other, discussing Quidditch teams. Or what Harry assumed were Quidditch Teams because he had no idea what else the Chudley Cannons could be.

"Y-your chest." Neville said, barely meeting Harry's eyes. Harry was not physically intimidating. He was a skinny kid, with knobby knees and thin wrists. He wasn't very strong, but he was fast and determined and that made up for it. He had some scars here and there, but the newest additions were the burns along his torso. Magical fire was apparently harder to heal than regular fire. Madam Pomfrey had given him a salve that would eventually reduce the scarring, make it a little less noticeable, but they would never really go away.

"Yeah." Harry responded.

"Is that because of what happened with Snape?"

"Yeah." Harry shrugged. He wasn't bothered by it, really. Not the scarring. Even if he was, there wasn't much he could do about it. He was just mad at Snape for being such a dickhead and mad at Dumbledore for not doing anything to punish the asshole.

"That must have been awful." Neville was giving him a big-eyed, sympathetic look. Even Weasley looked stunned.

"It wasn't that bad." Harry said carefully, side-eyeing the two of them warily. He had been getting sympathy from everyone over the accident. It was weird; students who hadn't given two shits about him beforehand were suddenly so concerned.

Not Blaise though. Blaise was very blase about it.

"I see Hell was hot." He'd said.

XXXX

"If you could piss on anyone's grave, whose would you piss on?" Blaise asked. Harry bit into his sandwich thoughtfully. They were sitting up in an old Astronomy Tower, leaning against the railing and dangling their feet over the edge. It was completely empty and sometimes Harry liked to lay in the middle and stare up at the vast night sky for a while. He could hear the sound of the Black Lake lapping the shores, or werewolves howling in the Forbidden Forest. The new Astronomy Tower had replaced this one as the student population at Hogwarts increased and more space was needed. So while the Old Astronomy Tower was easily accessible, no one came here but Harry and Blaise.

"Like, in the future? Like someone dies and then I piss on their grave or people who are already dead?"

"Both."

"Snape, obviously." Blaise snorted. "Dumbledore, definitely. Erm, probably Voldemort. He seemed like a nasty-ass dude. Hitler. Y'know, the basics." Blaise shifted to look at Harry directly.

"Dumbledore?" He sounded surprised. Harry shrugged.

"Dude's an asshole."

"Really?" Harry took another bite of his sandwich and nodded.

"There is something in this school on the third floor corridor that he _knows_ could kill us. Snape almost killed me and nothing's been done about that. Dumbledore didn't even come see me when I was in the Hospital Wing, and to be honest, for all his campaigning against blood supremacy, I don't think he actually gives a shit about muggleborns and Muggles." Blaise shrugged.

"Fair enough." He sipped his drink. "Does it bother you, being called a mudblood?"

"On a moral level, yes. Personally, not really, I guess. But I'm against it on principal." Harry shifted. "What about you? Whose grave would you piss on?"

"My dad's." Harry decided not to pry. They sat in silence for a little while.

"You wanna check out the third floor corridor?"

"Of course."

xxxx

wow that was long

tell me how you guys feel about the chapter length. they'll probably be a little shorter in the future; just don't know how short.

also, there is a lot of stuff i want to explain that will be explained later on, so keep that in mind. hope you guys liked it! feedback is always appreciated and reviews are inspiring!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! I just want to thank you so much for all your love, lovely reviews. I love hearing from you. But addressing a question I saw a lot:

Harry is still an orphan. Much in the same way that Neville's parents were, Harry's parents were attacked by Death Eaters. I considered having them alive, but in the same state as the Longbottoms, but that added a dimension I didn't really care for and wasn't prepared to write. Who knows. I still have time to add them in if I change my mind. So Harry still would have been orphaned. Peter still betrayed them and Sirius still went to jail and Remus still got screwed because he was a werewolf. Harry ends up on the Dursley's doorstep, but there is no longer great importance placed on Petunia taking him in because he's not the Boy-Who-Lived. And I can't for the life of me imagine the Dursleys keeping Harry unless they absolutely had to. They got rid of him.

Also, tropes I want to avoid are Terribly Manipulative and Evil Dumbledore and Simply Evil Snape and Malfoy because those are two dimensional and weak overall. I don't really do a good job avoiding them in this chapter, I'll let you know, but I want to avoid as a main staple of the story. I don't believe in either of those tropes.

Though, a lot of the behavior for Snape is pretty accurate. He threw jars at his students once. I remember the time he was going to kill Neville's toad if he didn't get a potion right and a lot of bullshit.

I want you guys to keep in mind though that Harry is a kid. A smart kid, who is more mature because he had to grow up fast and because kids are a lot more intelligent than they are given credit for, but a kid. He doesn't see motive and reason and shades of grey, or at least not most of it. He has a hard time understanding the things Dumbledore, Snape, and Malfoy do, not just because he doesn't have all the facts, but because the world is much more black and white for him at this age. He just sees the shit that goes on and knows it is wrong and that no one does anything about it. His opinions on many things are going to change as I write the story and as he becomes older and more experienced.

Additionally, both Ron and Hermione are entering stage left soon! Not so much in this chapter, but SOON. Will the Golden Trio last as long? Will it be as strong? Those things remain to be seen, because I also really want to explore the relationships Harry has in this. I feel like there were so many interesting characters in canon, but so few interactions. I just want to write about all the things.

Anywho, I should get started now. You guys are so wonderful and thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!

XXXX

They were technically breaking curfew, but that wasn't particularly hard. The Twins and Lee Jordan had taught Harry that from the beginning. Most prefects honestly didn't care about catching a student in the halls, unless you'd pissed them off for some reasons. Of course, Gryffindor prefects were always trying to catch Slytherin students and vice versa, so it was better for everyone to keep the Slytherin rivalry to acceptable levels and learn how to be sneaky.

Blaise and Harry crept down the hall, talking quietly. Filch always wore heavy boots so they would hear him coming. At first, Harry was afraid that Filch was going to be guarding the third floor corridor, but fortunately, Peeves was making a ruckus on the other side of the castle. Filch and Peeves were locked in a war. At every turn, Peeves did his best to give Filch a hard time. Even if he wasn't wrecking anything or tormenting students, he would just start screaming until Filch was forced to shut him up.

Blaise and Harry ducked down the hallway, shoes squeaking against the floor. The thing about the castle was that it was always loud; the grinding noise of shifting stairs, the voices of ghosts drifting across the castle, no matter how hushed their whispers were, portraits talking, laughing, drinking. It was a nice hum that Harry had settled into easily.

The castle wasn't lit; not really. There were a few lights by the stairs to assist people, but most of the castle was dark. However, the light typically drifted enough to see by, or moonlight through Hogwarts many windows lighted the way. But the corridor was dark and Harry could see that before they approached it. Not just dark, but pitch black. It was like a narrow stretch of void, untouched by the soft light around it. That did not bode well.

The two first years stumbled through the corridor.

" _Lumos_." Harry whispered softly. A bright light filled the corridor. There was a typical classroom door on the right, but clearly, the one they wanted to open was on the left. It was a huge, arched wooden door with several strips of metal across it and an important-looking keyhole.

"Nice." Blaise reached for the handle, attempting to turn it. It was locked, as expected.

" _Alohomora._ "

 _Click_.

The two boys paused, slightly unnerved. They shared a wary look. That had been too easy. If Dumbledore truly wanted them to stay away from the third floor corridor and whatever was behind this door, wouldn't he have put a better lock on it?

"You sure about this?" Blaise whispered.

"No."

"Okay then." Harry sidled up to Blaise, who gladly vacated his spot at the door. Harry reached across the door to grab the handle, before turning to Blaise.

"Ready?" The dark-skinned boy held his wand up, his mouth a grim line, too serious to belong on an eleven-year old's face. It looked ridiculous. Harry simply shot him a lopsided grin in return.

Harry swung the door open and the two of them darted in, closing it gently behind them. Harry held his wand against his clothes, dimming the light as he made sure the door clicked into place. It was pitch-black in the room and even dimmed, his wand was too bright. It hurt his eyes. Instead of casting a light across the room, it burned bright, causing spots to dance on his eyes.

"Harry." Blaise whispered.

"One second." He blinked a few times and turned around. A gust of warm air blew his hair off his face and he made a choking noise. The all too familiar smell of dog breath.

"That's a big fucking dog." Harry whispered back. He couldn't even see whatever creature they'd crammed into what was clearly a too-small room.

"Harry. I think..."

"Yeah?" The room was slowly coming into view; scratched up floorboards that seemed out of place in a school that was all tile and stone. The room subtly arched; Harry could tell from the walls near him, the way they curved up.

Another huff of dog breath had him suppressing coughs as he backed up against the door.

"I think that's a Cerberus."

Harry held his breath as the dog came into view. It was huge, with massive paws and long nails that scratched against the ground even as it slept. It was curled up, with it's three heads resting on its paws, each one letting out a little huff of breath through its nose. Harry could see the light from his wand glinting off large, white teeth snagged on their lips. It filled up the room and Harry wondered how he didn't feel the body heat it was giving off earlier.

But there was something a little off about it; its necks were skinny and its paws seemed too big for its body. Clownishly big, leading into skinny legs.

"It's a puppy." He said, a little too loud. The slow, rhythmic huffs paused and Harry froze, pressing his wand further into his robe. He glanced over at Blaise, to see wide eyes and completely frozen posture, his hand slightly outstretched. They stayed like that until the Cerberus shifted and began to snore once again. They quietly slipped away, before they disturbed the animal further.

XXXX

"Hey, Fred, George. Know anything about the third floor corridor?" Harry was sitting on the stairs with Lee Jordan, the Twins, and Cedric Diggory, who was leaning against the railing and peering at everyone's cards and smiling knowingly. They were playing Exploding Snap. Harry had offered for Blaise to come along, but the Slytherin had been unwilling to add potential fuel to the fire for the inter-house rivalry. Harry thought the Twins would like Blaise, but didn't blame the dark-skinned boy for opting out.

"Do we _know_ anything about the _third floor corridor_?" Fred began, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

"You came to the right place, Kasinger." George added ominously. Cedric stuck his fingers in his ears.

"LALALALALALALALA..." He shouted as he walked away. Harry blinked.

"What's up with him?"

"He has to protect his Quidditch career." Lee Jordan said, sliding further down the steps to close up the small circle that was forming. "Can't get into any trouble." The Twins leaned in with matching expressions.

"We assume you have taken a look at it yourself."

"You could say that." Harry snorted. Parting ways with Blaise had been strange after that but both boys had been at a loss for words. Really, what was there to say beyond the obvious? Blaise had said he was going to look into Cerberus's. In the meantime, Harry figured that Lee and the Twins had already investigated the third floor corridor and had plenty of things to say about it. "Anything new to share?"

Lee flicked his eyes over to the Twins. Harry watched as they shared a knowing look, groaning out loud. Whatever they were going to say, it wasn't coming without conditions.

"We _could_ just tell you," Fred began.

"But how would we know that you've really earned it?" Harry rolled his eyes. One of the cards exploded between them, causing everyone to jump.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded. It was like public school all over again; it bore great resemblance to prison. Everything had a price. Maybe it was gum, maybe it was a grade. Significance varied but kids could be little cutthroats. "You capitalist shitlords." Lee snickered.

"Don't worry."

"It's not anything-,"

"-, you wouldn't be comfortable doing."

"In fact-,"

"-, we think you'll enjoy it quite a bit." Sometimes, Harry hated the way they finished each other's sentences. It gave him a headache, jumping back and forth from between the two.

"Just spit it out."

"We need you for our team." Lee Jordan jumped in. "Our Broom Racing team. We need seven members to compete."

"We're down one this year because our brother Charlie graduated." Fred explained. "So far we've got me, George, Cedric, Alicia Spinnet, Cho Chang, and Angelina Johnson. Lee referees."

"We wanted to get Oliver Wood on the team but he's too mental about Quidditch to consider Broom Racing." George rolled his eyes.

"You realize these names mean nothing to me?"

"All you need to know is that this is a killer team."

"I have been on a broom _once_." Harry reminded them. They'd had to pick up flying lessons where they left off, but they hadn't gotten very far. Harry had been off the ground _once_. He liked it, but he had no idea what he was doing. Fred waved his hand.

"Doesn't matter. We just need another body on the team. You can fly novice. We have enough people in intermediate and expert to pull off the win anyways."

" _What_?"

"I have a chart I'll give to you." Lee promised.

"You made a _chart_?" Lee shrugged.

"It's confusing for the firsties, but you have to keep inducting members if want to keep the team alive. There are rumors that the Rebels had McGonagall back in the day. It's tradition." Harry leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay, why have I heard _nothing_ about this? No one can shut up about Quidditch, but I haven't heard a single thing about _Broom Racing_." The three boys leaned in, speaking in hushed tones.

"That's because it doesn't technically exist. You have to swear an Unbreakable Vow to never reveal Broom Racing, except for the express purpose of recruiting members. Broom Racing used to be an official sport but since there are no rules against sabotage, the Ministry had to shut it down because too many people were dying." George explained. Fred brushed some hair off his forehead, giving Harry his toothy, mischievous smile.

"Some of the teachers honestly don't know about it."

"And those that do can't say anything."

"It's Hogwarts' best-kept secret, and there aren't too many secrets around here if you know where to look." Harry stared at them.

"Maybe we should be speaking in _private_ then?" Lee waved his hand.

"Nah. Privacy charm on the words. Kinda works like the Taboo charm." Harry must have been making a confused face because Fred began to explain Taboo.

"It's what parents use to make sure their kids aren't swearing. They put the Taboo charm on certain words and it alerts them when their kids use them. Usually only works in a small area though, because of the amount of power it takes. But the Broom Racing teams band together every year and renew the privacy charm to keep it secret. There's been talk of putting the Fidelius charm on the fields."

"The what?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Are you in or out?" George wanted to know. _This is ridiculous_ , Harry wanted to say. But at the same time, he found it kind of incredible. That they had gone to such lengths to keep it a secret was impressive.

Some schools had underground drug rings. Hogwarts had underground Broom Racing. Which was shaping up to look just as dangerous.

"You said there were no rules against sabotage?" Fred shrugged.

"Well, some. No Unforgivables, nothing illegal, no dark curses, no trying to kill someone. Just the basics. But they'll let some pretty nasty things fly."

"Are you talking about the players or the curses?" The Twins snickered.

"Does it make a difference?" Harry supposed not.

"Shouldn't I be taking an Unbreakable Vow now, since you've told me all this?" The Twins exchanged glances.

"Aw, would ickle Harrykins tell on us?" The boy in question rolled his eyes.

"Oh, shut up."

"What do you say?" Lee inquired. Harry eyed them carefully. This was a raw deal. He wasn't that desperate for information.

"And I'm expected to do all this for just one piece of information? No way. No deal. You need to offer me something better than that." Harry settled back against the railing of the staircase, crossing his arms. The Twins grinned.

"Does this mean you're open to negotiation?" Harry crooked an eyebrow.

"Who's the capitalist shitlord now?" Lee teased.

"How about we share all knowledge of Hogwarts? From everything that's in our possession already, to knowledge we might gain? Knowledge about teachers, passageways, everything." George suggested. That sounded pretty good to Harry; he had no doubt that the Twins knew plenty. But from what he could tell, he was about to be in for a long and dangerous ride. He knew he could get more from them.

"That, and prank Snape for me and we have a done deal. And make it _spectacular_." Harry wasn't bothered by his scars but he was still pissed that Snape could have killed him.

"Oh, you didn't even _have_ to ask."

XXXX

"There's a trap door." Harry explained to Blaise. They were sitting at the Old Astronomy Tower again. Blaise had done some research on the Cerberus. The most educational books would have been in the Restricted Section, but Blaise simply sent home for his own. "That's what the dog was sitting on. It's guarding something." Blaise nodded.

"Cerberus are pretty much _the first_ guard dog. Whatever it is, it has to be important to require a Cerberus for the task, especially in a school full of children. Magical, no doubt, but not just any kind of magic. A special magical item, something you wouldn't want just anyone getting their hands on. Something you wouldn't want the government getting their hands on."

"Fred and George said the Cerberus probably came from Hagrid. They don't have any real confirmation, but I don't suppose it really matters where it came from in the first place, just that it's here." Harry rested his chin on the railing, kicking his feet over the side. Being this high made him nervous, but he liked the rush it gave him.

"This all seems too obvious." Blaise said, mimicking Harry's posture. "If whatever the dog is guarding is so important, why even set that up in the first place? Why not keep it in a safe and just never tell anyone about it? If no one knows about it, they're not going to go looking and there is nothing particularly suspicious about a safe."

"Meanwhile, a Cerberus on guard is _very_ suspicious." Blaise hummed in agreement. "Maybe people already know about it. Maybe they know Dumbledore has it and where else would he put it except Hogwarts?"

"That dog is just a puppy, though. If it's so important, there has to be more defenses than that." Harry pressed his forehead against the cool metal railing, shutting his eyes for a moment. It couldn't possibly be this simple. If someone was looking for something Dumbledore had, Hogwarts would be the first place they'd look. And the 'Defeater of Grindelwald' was smarter than that.

"Blaise, do you keep up with the _Daily Prophet_?" Harry opened his eyes to see Blaise glance judgingly at him.

"You don't?" Harry knew he should probably read the wizard news, if he was to be fully immersed and functional in this new world. But he struggled to keep up with Muggle politics and wizard politics added a whole new dimension that he was not prepared for.

"Stop judging me. Do you or don't you?"

"I do." Blaise said. "Why?" There was a curious tone to his voice. "You think it would have been in the news?"

"I don't think it would be explicitly stated, no. But there has to be something there. If something so huge is going on I don't think it would slip by completely unnoticed."

"What if all this isn't as big as we think it is?"

"There's a three-headed dog guarding a trap door in a school full of children. I think it's safe to assume that something much bigger is going on that we don't see." Blaise shrugged.

"Fair enough. I still have some of the copies and the _Daily Prophet_ is automatically archived anyways. I'll see what I can find. In the meantime, you look into the Cerberus some more. See what you can get out of Hagrid."

XXXX

Quirrell was a terrible teacher. It wasn't the stutter either. Well, it was partially the stutter, Harry reflected. But that was not the main reason.

Quirrell didn't know _anything_. He repeated from the book, quite clearly. Harry had heard stories of how he fought a vampire, travelled the world, and yet that man had nothing interesting to say. It was a challenge, being in his class. His stutter was grating, his voice constantly unsure about what he was saying. There was no point in taking notes or even listening when Harry could just read ahead in the book. Their textbook was rather dense too, but it was better than what Quirrell was trying to teach.

Today, Harry was going through a book that the Twins had given him in preparation for Broom Racing. He would take the Unforgivable Vow at the track, wherever that was. They were trying to teach him basic shielding charms for his race. The novice flyers raced after the intermediate, so they would understand how the races worked. There wasn't too much sabotage in the novice races; most of the novices could barely fly properly and Harry was starting in Division 3, the lowest difficulty with the worst flyers. The chances of the players throwing a metaphorical elbow were low. But the Twins wanted Harry to be prepared nonetheless. If he wasn't ready to throw some curses, the least he could do was protect himself. He'd need help with these spells though.

"A-a-a-and n-n-n-ow we will t-t-t-talk ab-b-b-bout c-c-countersp-p-pell." Harry wanted to scream. He glanced around the room to see Neville practically twitching in his seat, unable to look directly at Quirrell. Harry didn't blame him.

 _The_ _ **Shield Charm**_ _(Protego) is a term applied to several varieties of_ _charms_ _. They create magical barrier to deflect physical entities and spells, in order to protect a certain person or area. Conjurations may sometimes rebound directly off it back towards the caster or in other cases, may ricochet off in other directions or dissipate as soon as they hit the shield._

" _F-f-f-finite_ or the m-m-more advanced _f-f-f-finite incant-t-tat-t-tem_..." Quirrell was scanning around the room, his eyes meeting Harry's briefly. Harry tried not to roll his eyes. He watched the turban rotate as Quirrell looked around. Quirrell met Neville's eyes briefly and Harry could swear he saw the back of the turban quiver in an unnatural way, at the exact same time Neville cringed. That in itself wasn't entirely unusual. Neville seemed like the kind of person who would have been nervous from birth. He'd heard the way Neville talked about his gran. It was no surprise Neville had turned out the way he did, being raised in the shadow of parents who had done the impossible. Not only that, but his surviving the Killing Curse set the bar high for him, even when it could have been a fluke.

But this was different. It almost seemed painful. Neville lifted his hand to touch his scar, ducking his head. That was certainly suspicious.

Harry cornered him after class, herding him towards a secluded corner. Weasley tried to follow, but Neville waved him on to lunch.

"Hi, Harry." He said with wide eyes and a timid voice. Harry leaned in slightly.

"What was that in Quirrell's class? Are you alright?" Neville flinched.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry snorted.

"When he looked at you. Your scar hurt. I saw you." Neville reached up to touch his scar curiously. He had a habit of rubbing it underneath his hair, which flopped awkwardly on his forehead. When he reached to rub it, he brushed back his hair and Harry saw it in full. It was almost always partially obscured, but it was a fairly obvious scar. It hadn't faded like a regular scar; it was big, sharp, and dark. Now, it was red and raw.

" _Jesus Christ, Neville_." Harry hissed. Neville jumped. " _Your scar_. What the hell do you mean, 'nothing happened?" Neville looked up, a panicked look on his face, as if he could see his scar. "I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing. That doesn't look right." He grabbed Neville's sleeve, trying to pull him along, but Neville yanked his arm away.

"No!" Harry glanced back, blinking. Neville suddenly became aware of what he'd done and hugged his sleeve to his chest. Harry stared at him while he searched for words. "I can't." He finally said. "I just can't."

"Why not?"

"If my gran finds out I went to the Hospital Wing for something like this she'll lose her mind. She's worried how it'll look to the _Daily Prophet_. And _I can't_. People already know I've been for all these stupid reasons-," The broom incident. The tripping jinx incident, where he'd broken his nose. Various magical mishaps. "-, and I just can't go again. I look stupid." Neville looked at his shoes. "I just don't want to, okay?"

"Neville, don't be an idiot." Harry pointed at the lightning bolt scar. "That's not right. And it's not just a broken nose or a scraped knee or some other shit like that. That's a curse scar from the most dangerous curse in the world and it looks like it's about to start bleeding."

"Harry _please_. You don't have to deal with this. Everyone already thinks you're brave and cool-,"

" _Really?_ "

"-, _yes_ , and don't pretend like you don't know it. Please don't make me do this. It's embarrassing." Harry sighed, and tilted his head against the wall, shutting his eyes. He rubbed his forehead. This was ridiculous.

What he did for his housemates.

" _Fine._ " Neville was overjoyed.

"Thank you so much-!"

"On one condition." Harry opened his eyes to see a scared-looking Neville. Harry pulled out his wand and stared down at it for a moment. Ironwood, 11 and a half inches with a phoenix feather core. Difficult and stubborn. _"Just like its user."_ Ollivander had said. Harry made a face at it. It certainly gave him some trouble. His spells were often too overpowered or too weak. But when he got it, _he got it_. It let him skate by in his classes, since teachers were more concerned with a first year's ability to perform a simple spell rather than perfect it, but it certainly bothered Harry. He didn't have much money to buy his school supplies and had considered getting a secondhand wand for a long time. But if he was going to be casting _magic_ , he'd figured it was better to pay a little extra for a good wand, rather than have it backfire spectacularly.

Now, he couldn't imagine having a different wand. Sure, it gave him a boatload of trouble, but he would miss the familiar thrum of magic under his fingers.

"You take _me_ to the Hospital Wing."

"What do you mean-?"

Harry turned his wand on himself.

XXXX

Vomiting slugs was just as unpleasant as it sounded. Neville had to drag him to the Hospital Wing as he vomited slugs all over the hallways, grinning at Neville the entire time. He'd passed the Twins and Lee who had tried to ask him what happened. Harry had vomited slugs in response.

Filch had screamed at Harry almost the entire way. Harry tuned most of it out and started aiming at different spots on the shrewd man. Cedric stepped in towards the end and assisted Harry and Neville up the stairs to the Hospital Wing. Harry vomited several slugs onto Cedric's shoes and felt bad about it.

Once Madam Pomfrey had sat Harry down with a bucket and told him it would be over soon. Apparently Madam Pomfrey had a policy on not reversing the Slug-Vomiting Curse. It got used so often in the younger years that she had stopped treating it altogether in an attempt to deter the students. Whether that was working remained to be seen. It was going to be a miserable ten minutes.

"Neville's scar-," Harry paused to vomit up another slug. "-is hurting him. You should-," Another. "-, take a look at it."

Neville had no chance to escape.

XXXX

"I heard you had a nice lunch yesterday." Blaise said innocently. Harry sat down next to him and glared.

"I will literally push you off this tower." Blaise held his hands up defensively.

"What do you mean? I didn't do anything."

"Oh, shut up."

"Who hit you with the curse?" Blaise wanted to know, eyes glimmering. Harry glared at him. Blaise had this thing about him where he had to know absolutely everything that went on between students at Hogwarts. All the dirty details. The dark-skinned boy was the biggest gossip in the entire school.

"No one."

"Clearly, someone."

"Don't be a dick about it. Aren't you supposed to be on my side?"

"I am. Doesn't mean I can't laugh about it."

"Ha ha. What did you find?" Blaise pulled out a copy of the _Daily_ _Prophet_ and handed it to Harry. Harry fixed his glasses, which were sliding off his nose and squinted in the low light.

"Gringotts was broken into?" He read out loud "That's significant, I'm guessing?"

"You have no idea. Wizard coin is controlled by the goblins at Gringotts. They pride themselves on their security, the value of coin is lost. So security is the number one priority. No one gets in or out of Gringotts unless the goblins say so."

"But someone did." Harry leaned forward, blinking at Blaise.

"Read more. Nothing was taken."

"You think whatever they tried to take is what the Cerberus is guarding?"

"We did say it would be simpler to just keep whatever it was in a safe. It was kept in the _ultimate_ safe. It makes sense." Harry had been fascinated with this entire ordeal, but he was beginning to wonder what they were actually doing. Even if they discovered what was being guarded, there wasn't anything they could do about it. Maybe it was dangerous to keep whatever it was here, but Harry had picked up on the implications in Blaise's voice. If Gringotts wasn't safe, nowhere was.

"I don't know what we should do." Harry admitted, scratching his forehead.

"Well, thank Merlin _I_ do."

XXXX

The Twins had taken Harry to the Quidditch pitch for practice. There were a few Quidditch hopefuls flying around, trying to hone their skills before tryouts started. Or maybe they had already started. Harry had no clue, to be honest. There were a few people sitting in the stands, but Harry couldn't see them very well from where he was standing. People went absolutely mad over Quidditch; the season hadn't even started but the team-hopefuls were going crazy conditioning for it. Harry remembered treating Cedric Diggory in the Hospital Wing for his punctured lung. He'd taken a beater to the chest during conditioning. Come to think of it, he'd been practicing with the Twins.

That did not bode well for Harry.

"I'm getting sand in my shoes." Harry complained as Fred thrust a broom out at him. "I don't think you two are the best flying teachers." The Twins ignored him and Harry took the broom. He slung his leg over like he was taught. It was one of the school's old Cleansweeps. Fred and George had told him it wasn't a very good broom, but it seemed alright to Harry. It flew. That was impressive enough for him.

Fred and George mounted their own Cleansweeps and kicked off. Harry followed them into the air. They were going a little higher than Harry had been in his flying class, but they were just hovering.

"Well, you're off the ground." Fred pointed out.

"That means the hard part is already over." George added.

"What now-,"

George rammed into Harry so hard that he went skidding across the sky, screaming. He clutched his broom tightly, which was a mistake because the broom started to turn. He went into several loops before he regained control. He righted himself, huffing, red-faced from being upside down.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" George grinned.

Harry barely looked up in time to see Fred trying to dive-bomb him.

He got the hell out of Dodge.

He zipped forward on his broom, out of the way. He shot up five feet, trying to avoid George, who had almost grabbed his leg. Harry tried to stop for a second to set his bearings straight, but the Twins were coming at him from either side and it was fly or die. He went nearly vertical trying to get away from them, shooting up beyond the stands, beyond the giant hoops, locking his thighs and ankles around the broom. He flattened himself against it, glancing down only for a moment to see Fred and George hot on his trail. He had the advantage of speed, being smaller and more aerodynamic, but Fred and George were far more experienced.

" _SQUAWK!"_

"YAH!" Harry shouted as he swerved to the side sharply, narrowly avoiding the hawk flying above.

"Uggghh." Harry grunted as Fred rammed him in the side. He shot forward, weaving around George, wind whipping through his hair. His glasses had been jostled severely and the rim was sitting on the bridge of his nose. He could barely see where he was going, but he had to get away before they knocked him off his broom.

He sped through one of the hoops and over the stands. He twisted around a pillar, realizing too late that it had been only Fred chasing him. When he came around the side of the pillar, George was waiting above him.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Harry went into a nosedive instantly, whipping to the side when George grabbed his foot. George lost his grip on Harry and went flying into the stands.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?" His heart was beating so hard in his chest that if he pressed a hand to it, he would feel it.

He only heard laughter from behind him.

XXXX

After a long time, Fred and George lighted onto the ground, exhausted. Harry remained warily above them, hovering over their heads.

"We're not going to attack you, we promise."

"I DON'T TRUST YOU."

Besides, despite his initial hesitancy and terrible first experiences, Harry liked flying. A lot. He loved behind in the air, in the sky. He liked looking down and seeing the tiny structures and people beneath him and the vast sky above him. He liked the way the wind ruffled his hair. He liked the way it felt pulling out of a nosedive at the last possible second.

Flying felt natural. It was just like riding a bike.

Still, he couldn't believe he was doing this. He was bound to wind up like those kids in the Hospital Wing he'd helped treat, with the punctured lungs and broken ribs.

"You're like a bat out of hell, Harry." George remarked, peering up at the lanky boy above him.

"You pull some fancy flying like that during Quidditch tryouts next year and you'd be on the team in a heartbeat." Harry couldn't care less about Quidditch. He just liked going fast.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

"Now, if you can just throw some elbows, you'll make it into the intermediate division no problem by the championship."

"I've been working on the spells you gave me." Harry informed them. "I'm having some trouble with the shield charm though. I can cast a pretty basic version, but it's not very strong and it fades fast." Blaise and Cedric had to help him with those. Blaise had a serene, disciplined mindset when it came to casting, which helped him immensely. Especially with new spells. Harry had gotten help with the other spells from Dean and Seamus though. Those two were a never-ending supply of nasty hexes and jinxes. Ones that weren't too harmful, but would hamper you in a race. Harry had asked Blaise, but as it turned out, Harry wasn't interested in using the Blood Boiling Curse.

Fred waved his hand.

"Not important. Not for the spells in the novice division. What you should worry about is casting speed." Harry made a face. Sure, he could cast a basic version of the shield charm. But not quickly. It took him a long time.

"For such huge troublemakers, you two have very high standards." George shrugged.

"It's important to know. They teach you a lot of things here at Hogwarts, but only a fraction of it is useful. Fred and I learned the charm in our first year too, when we first got into racing."

"It's not a hard charm, but it requires a lot of focus and practice." Fred explained. "I know you can do it. You just need a little bit of pressure." Harry spotted Fred reaching for his wand.

"NOPE."

He shot away, bright lights flaring behind him as he narrowly avoided a spell that singed the tail end of his broomstick.

 _BOOM_.

A jet of hot air narrowly missed his head, causing Harry to swallow hard as he fled from the Twins.

"They're trying to kill me." He said to himself. "They're actually trying to kill me."

XXXX

The Twins had put Harry through hell the day before. He groaned as he rolled out of bed, sore and exhausted. He had no idea how he was tired, given that he had been _sitting_ the entire time, but he was. He'd have to ask them about that.

Harry straightened up, stretching and yawning at the same time, arms towards the ceiling. He liked his dorm. The Gryffindor colors were a little outrageous at times, but they were homey. His dorm was trimmed with gold everywhere, with red walls and tan carpet that was soft against his bare feet. The four-poster beds had large, velvety red canopies with gold trim and tassels.

"Morning." He yawned out to his dormmates. Neville was already in the shower, while Seamus and Dean were sitting on the floor playing Exploding Snap in their pajamas. Ron was watching the game, hanging over the edge of his bed, waiting for his turn to get into the shower. Harry had showered the night before since he couldn't stand the smell of himself and it looked like Seamus and Dean had too.

"Morning." Dean said.

"What were you doing yesterday?" Seamus asked, taking his attention away from the game momentarily. "You seemed exhausted when you came in." Harry yawned again and shrugged.

"He was flying around with my brothers." Ron clarified.

"It doesn't bother you, does it?" Harry asked carefully. "My hanging out with your brothers?" Ron shrugged.

"You're welcome to them. I share everything else with them; why not my dormmates too?"

 _Well shit_.

Ron and Harry weren't close, by any means. They were friends now, maybe. Harry wouldn't say so and he doubted Ron would either, but they were close to friends.

Of course, some people you were only friends with because you saw them everyday.

But Harry could still understand why Ron wouldn't be comfortable with Harry hanging around his brothers.

"How was it, anyways? The flying?"

"Your brothers are fast as _hell_. They're what, _beaters_ on the Quidditch team, right? That's the right term?" Ron blinked.

"Well, not officially, but yeah, they've been beaters since they started playing. They'll probably be beaters again this year. You really don't know anything about Quidditch, do you?" Harry shook his head.

"Nah."

"What were you guys doing, then? I thought they were teaching you how to play."

"No, I barely know how to fly." Ron looked surprised.

"You seemed to be doing well yesterday." Harry made a face.

"That was _fleeing_. Not so much _flying_." Ron snorted. "Why, you like Quidditch?" Harry already knew, of course. The Chudley Cannons pajamas gave it away. But Ron's face lit up nonetheless.

"Yeah," He said, trying to play it cool. Harry smiled at that. "I'm a fan. I've been playing with my brothers since I was a kid."

"You must be a great flyer then." Harry figured it was the least he could do. Not only was he spending more time with Ron's brothers than Ron was, but he was spending more time with Ron's brothers than he was with Ron and they _lived together._

"I-I'm okay." Ron looked ecstatic.

"Think you could teach me sometime? How to fly and how to play Quidditch, I'm not so sure about either of them."

"Yeah, that sounds like fun. We can do that. We should pick a Saturday, before the pitch gets booked for tryouts."

"This coming Saturday sound good?" Harry offered. _You don't make friends unless you try,_ Harry reminded himself. He needed to make a more conscious effort to try and make friends, especially in his own year. A lot of socializing didn't come natural to eleven year olds, especially eleven year olds who grew up in isolation from most of the world.

Especially eleven year olds who grew up with six other siblings.

Neville and Ron had hit it off because they were both purebloods that grew up in the wizarding world. They had a lot of shared experiences. Dean and Seamus had both grown up with at least one foot in the muggle world; Harry wasn't entirely sure what Dean's story was. So they also had a lot of shared experiences.

Harry didn't have anyone with whom he shared experiences, so he would have to work extra hard to make friends. Blaise was different; the two of them had been put together in classes. Harry needed to become better friends with the people he lived with.

"Sounds great." Ron said.

"Oh yeah, what happened with those slugs?" Seamus asked. "Neville wouldn't tell us who hit you with the curse."

"Good for Neville." Harry responded.

"Is it embarrassing?" The dark-haired boy scowled.

"No."

" _That_ was believable."

"Was it Malfoy?" Dean asked curiously. Harry rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"No."

"Was it that Slytherin you hang around with?"

"Blaise? God, no."

" _Tell us_." Seamus whined.

"Quit your whining. I'm not telling you."

"So you _must_ be embarrassed."

"Lay off, Seamus." Ron interrupted. "If he doesn't want to tell you, he doesn't want to tell you."

"Thanks, Ron." Ron met Harry's eyes briefly, before he ducked his head, blushing spectacularly. Even the tips of his ears were turning red.

"Y-you're welcome."

The bathroom door creaked as Neville came out, fully dressed and drying his hair off with a towel. Dean, Harry, and Ron had no problem changing in front of each other already. Harry was used to a lack of privacy at the orphanage. He had always shared a bedroom. Seamus and Neville, on the other hand, would dress and undress only in the bathroom, though Harry figured that would change soon enough.

"Hey Neville." Seamus said instantly. "You know who hit Harry with the slug curse?"

"No." Neville responded, pink dusting his cheeks.

"You guys are both terrible liars."

Eventually, the ragtag group made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Breakfast at Hogwarts was always an adventure; no matter how long he spent here, Harry didn't think he could get sick of the Great Hall. With its grand arches, massive windows, shimmering banners hanging from the ceiling. The sky would glitter above them at night and shine down in the morning. Not hot, but bright and cheerful. Sometimes, flowers would decorate the tables and it felt like summer again.

The group took their seats near the Twins. George slid into Harry the moment he sat down,causing Harry to grunt in surprise.

"Stop ramming into me. I had enough of that yesterday." Harry commanded, narrowing his eyes. George grinned and elbowed Harry in the side. Fred reached across and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Aw, ickle Harrykins."

"Stop bothering him, you two." Ron demanded.

"Is ickle Ronnykins jealous?" George inquired in a very serious voice. Ron threw an apple at him.

"Anyways," Fred said in a louder voice. "Cedric wanted to pass this along to you." He handed Harry a little folder.

"And Cedric couldn't do this himself because?"

" _Quidditch_." George said in a long-suffering voice. "I swear, that boy takes his Quidditch just as seriously as Oliver. I _love_ Quidditch and I don't spend that much time playing."

"Ah."

"He's up and at 'em at six in the morning, flying around the pitch. He does it in the winter, too. Sometimes we like to go out and watch him shiver in the dark." Fred smiled to himself dreamily. Angelina Johnson, a black girl with sharp eyes and an easy smile, reached across the table and slapped Fred upside the head before she took her seat.

"Angelina." Fred whined.

"If I didn't slap you, no one would." She claimed. George snickered. She turned to Harry. "Nice to meet you. I'm Angelina Johnson. I'm sure you've already heard about me from these two. I've certainly heard about you."

"Good things?" Harry asked.

"Sometimes. You've got a knack for troublemaking I hear." George wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and squeezed him, pretending to cry.

"It's beautiful." He wiped away a faux tear.

"Knock off the bullshit." Harry shrugged George's arm off him.

"Harrykins! What kind of language is that?" Another girl took a seat by Angelina. She was tall and muscled, with dark hair and eyes.

"Would I be correct in assuming you're Alicia Spinnet?"

"You would be." Alicia confirmed. She held out her hand. Harry shook it. "Nice to meet you. Cho's in Ravenclaw, which is why you haven't met her. I'm sure you will soon enough."

"Are you guys all on the Quidditch team?"

"Last year, anyway." Angelina said. "Probably this year."

"Holy shit, you guys are a clique. An _exclusive_ clique." Harry realized. And he was being inducted in. It wasn't just Quidditch; it was the Broom Racing too. They were an exclusive little group of friends, all involved in the same activities.

"What's a clique?" Ron asked, bemused. Harry waved his hand.

"It's like a group of friends but a little more exclusive. It has a Muggle connotation to it I can't really explain."

"We're not that exclusive." Alicia said. Harry could have snorted. _You have to take an Unbreakable Vow to join. That's about as exclusive as it gets._

Broom Racing was like a cult. _Quidditch_ was like a cult.

At that exact moment, Snape entered through the side door, into the Great Hall.

At that exact moment, his robes transfigured. Pure white, skin tight, with a plunging neckline. A pink and white feather boa appeared. His hair itself curled, Marilyn Monroe style. It was the most horrifying thing Harry had ever seen.

Half the Great Hall started screaming.

Harry was one of them.

He'd never wanted to see Snape's hairy chest.

It was gone in a flash. Just as quickly as the dress appeared, the robes were back. It had been for only a few seconds, but a few seconds too many.

"I feel like vomiting slugs again." Harry said to no one in particular.

He _had_ asked for it to be spectacular. Say what you will about the Twins, but they delivered.

XXXX

Harry knew why he was being called into McGonagall's office. Since Snape nearly killed him, Harry looked quite good for revenge.

What Harry didn't know, was why the hell Draco Malfoy was sitting with Snape in McGonagall's office, looking smug and expectant. Harry furrowed his brow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked Malfoy.

"Mr. Kasinger, take a seat." McGonagall commanded. Harry took his seat, glancing over at Snape. Snape was seated on the other side of Malfoy and he looked absolutely livid. His face was purple and blotchy. The vein on his neck was already standing out and Harry hadn't even said anything.

"It was him." Snape said, his voice murderous. "I _know_ it was _him!_ The little bastard has the _motive_ , the _means!_ " He jabbed his pudgy fingers at Harry, jowls flapping at the jerking motion. Harry stared at him incredulously.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" McGonagall sighed, and Harry finally took a good look at her. She was leaning on her desk, glasses halfway down her nose. A few strands had fallen out of her normally pristine bun and she looked sick to death of Snape. Harry imagined Snape had been screaming about him to her since the appearance of Severus Monroe this morning. Harry had no idea how the Twins knew about Marilyn Monroe, much less replicated one of her most iconic dresses.

"Professor Snape claims you are the one responsible for the unfortunate incident this morning."

"You can't possibly think I am capable of performing magic that complicated." McGonagall sighed.

"I do not. Professor Snape claims you are."

"Who else would have done this but-,"

"SEVERUS! That's enough!" McGonagall interrupted him, just before his entire face turned purple. "I do not believe these accusations, but Mr. Malfoy here has some interesting things to say about you."

"Like what?" Harry demanded.

"That you were seen by the door that the professors take into the Great Hall last night, past curfew. Tampering with it."

"That's ridiculous. Did he say he saw me?" McGonagall looked over to Malfoy.

"I don't know. Mr. Malfoy, you never did quite say who it was that saw Mr. Kasinger." Malfoy blinked.

"Um, I did."

"Past curfew?" Harry inquired, glaring at Malfoy, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, I saw you past curfew."

"Mr. Malfoy, that _also_ means you were past curfew." Harry had never heard McGonagall sound so exasperated before.

"Yes, but I wasn't doing anything _wrong_."

"You were still past curfew, Mr. Malfoy. You have automatically earned yourself a detention. Mr. Kasinger, where were you last night?"

 _Shit_. Harry had been breaking curfew with Blaise at the Old Astronomy Tower. Filch had nearly caught them, yelling that he could hear his footsteps.

Harry could lie and say he was in his dorm, but without talking to his dormmates first, he had no idea if they would lie for him. He would get detention anyways and potentially be tied to the prank.

"Mr. Kasinger?" McGonagall asked curiously. He had taken too long to answer. "Where were you last night?"

"I was breaking curfew, Professor. I was at the staircase near the Old Astronomy Tower. Mr. Filch almost caught me on the way back. Said he could hear my footsteps and that he was going to get me. Peeves threw a water balloon at me." Harry supplied everything he could to his whereabouts. If he lied, Malfoy and Snape would probably find some way to implicate him in the prank, which would be much worse than breaking curfew. "But I didn't have anything to do with this prank."

"What were you doing on the staircase, Mr. Kasinger?"

"Reading the _Daily Prophet_." He had been going over the article in the _Daily Prophet_ with Blaise, actually. McGonagall sighed.

"Thank you for telling me the truth, Mr. Kasinger. I have to give you detention though, you understand that?" She eyed him hesitantly. Harry nodded and shrugged.

"I know."

"10 points to Gryffindor for your honesty."

"WHAT?!" Snape was _pissed_.

"Quiet, Severus. Merlin forbid I encourage my students to tell me the truth."

"BUT HE'S GUILTY OF-,"

"No, Severus. He isn't. Mr. Malfoy." Malfoy snapped to attention, suddenly looking nervous. Harry could have cackled, but he was trying to keep the pretense of honesty up. "50 points from Slytherin for lying to me and trying to frame another student." Malfoy's mouth gaped. "Two detentions. One for breaking curfew, one for lying to your professors. You should know better, Mr. Malfoy." _Jesus,_ Malfoy was mad. Harry wouldn't have continued this rivalry if he did. Punching Malfoy in the face was enough for him. Sure, the kid was a blood supremacist, but Harry knew that a lot of that was because of his isolation as a pureblood. Plus, his parents were probably bigoted as shit. That kind of supremacy bullshit didn't just _happen_ in kids.

Harry had figured Malfoy would try something since he punched him in the face, but he had no idea it would backfire so spectacularly.

If looks could kill.

This was not the end of it.

XXXX

"You have detention with Filch?" Ron looked shocked. "That sounds awful, mate." Harry shrugged, and flipped a page. They were sitting on their beds in the dorm. Harry was idly flipping through a spell book while he explained what happened with McGonagall to his dormmates, who were so incredibly nosy.

"Yeah, he owns my ass for a night because _apparently_ he gets all curfew breakers. And he hates me for vomiting slugs on him. I should have spat one in his face." Ron snorted.

"Hey, at least it's not with Snape, right?" The red-haired boy offered. The other boys murmured in agreement. All Gryffindors inevitably served detention with Snape, so they knew how horrible it was.

"Oh, did I not tell you guys?"

"Tell us what?" Dean inquired.

"Since Snape almost killed me, I'm not allowed to serve detention with him anymore. He can assign them, but I can't serve them with him. Something about trying to guarantee me my safety. The entire situation is kind of bullshit but at least no more extracurricular Snape time."

" _Mate, you're so lucky_." Ron had stars in his eyes at the possibility.

"I think he's harder on the rest of us because he can't punish you anymore." Neville said. "Not that I'm blaming you." He added quickly. Seamus nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I've noticed that too. He seems vaguely pissed off during every detention, more so than usual. Bloody bastard." Harry laughed.

"I am so glad to be free of him. I would leave his detentions feeling _greasy_. And it wasn't the fact that I had to scrub cauldrons. It was just his general greasy presence."

"When do you have detention with Filch anyways?" Dean asked. Harry briefly glanced at the folder Cedric had intended for him. It was the schedule for the races. The first one, a race in the intermediate division was Friday night. It wasn't for points; more to show the novices what exactly the races were like. Regardless, everyone seemed so excited for it and Harry desperately wanted to go.

"Friday, which sucks. Because I had things I wanted to do." And now he couldn't. _Goddamnit_.

"At least we can still play Quidditch Saturday." Ron said. Harry sighed.

"Yeah, but I'm still mad. I wanted to lie to her and just say I was in my dorm but I didn't think an impromptu cover story would hold."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked. "It wouldn't hold?" Harry shrugged.

"Well if I just said that I was in my dorm without being able to talk to you beforehand, I would have been found out. And then I'd get in trouble for breaking curfew _and_ lying."

"We wouldn't have told her you weren't here." Ron said, blinking.

"Of course not." Neville added. Harry glanced at Dean and Seamus, who were looking at him incredulously.

"Did you think we would tell on you?" Dean looked a little bit hurt.

"I didn't mean that you would purposely tell her or anything I just didn't know if you would actually lie for me y'knowlikeIknowI'mnotthebestdormmate-," Harry was talking _really_ fast. "andwe'renotallthatcloseoranythingsoy'knowlike..."

They burst out laughing.

"We're dormmates for the next seven years, mate. If we don't look out for each other, who will?" Ron grinned at him.

Harry was struck with a familiar realization. He'd said pretty much the same thing to Neville before. He had naturally assumed he would look out for his dormmates and housemates, but hadn't expected the same treatment in return.

"Thanks guys."

XXXX

Harry had gone from scrubbing cauldrons to scrubbing floors. Fantastic.

Of course, where Harry had vomited slugs was already spotless, but Filch was making Harry scrub it by hand, just out of spite.

Filch had wandered down the hall, where he was making Draco Malfoy scrub the the trim spotless. Harry kept glancing over to the window at the end of the hallway, thinking about potential methods of escape. He had told the Twins he couldn't make it, but they had smiled knowingly at him.

 _"Meet us down at the Quidditch Pitch."_

Harry sighed to himself and started scrubbing again, before Filch came back around and started yelling at him for not working hard enough. He dipped his brush in the bucket of soapy water that was making his hands sting.

This _sucked_.

Filch wandered back around, his boots clomping against the ground. His stupid cat followed him everywhere, shedding all over the halls and pissing wherever it pleased. If Filch was truly so concerned about cleanliness, he would have taught his cat better.

At least Filch didn't say anything to Harry, who kept his eyes on the ground the entire time.

"Hn." Filch clomped back around the corner to Malfoy, who kept stopping. Filch got pleasure out of yelling at students; that much was obvious. He kept anticipating that Malfoy would stop working, just so he could yell at him.

Once Filch rounded the corner, Harry glanced back at the window. He could see the lock from here and knew it would be so easy to just open it and climb out; they weren't that high up and Hogwarts had plenty of handholds.

 _It would be so easy_.

He dipped the brush in the bucket again. He had a small cut on one of his fingers and it stung when it hit the soapy water.

 _Goddamnit_.

 _Y'know what, I'm done._

He was practically a delinquent anyways.

He dropped the brush into the bucket, climbed to his feet and backed over to the window quickly, cracking it open as quietly as he could. He lowered himself out and closed the window behind him.

XXXX

Christ, that was long.

I know I said it would probably be shorter, and it really isn't, but I wouldn't expect all this in the future. I was trying to get around 9,000 and it just so happened that where I wanted to end was in that ballpark. I'd expect a range of about 6,000-10,000. Depends on the chapter, I suppose.

Also, Broom Racing is a thing now because it's stupid that only seven people from each house can fly and play a sport. I mean, there must be people who love flying at Hogwarts but can't because they either don't like Quidditch or didn't make the team. And I get that they can just fly around on their own but it's not the same. I have all of this stuff for Broom Racing typed out and figured out. I will be addressing that next chapter, somewhat. I can't imagine a character giving a detailed explanation on how exactly everything works, so I'll post all of the things I have about it in my AN for those of you that want them.

I know some ridiculous things happened, but hey, it's Hogwarts. It's a magical school and I always felt that the books had a distinct lack of ridiculous things happening. Or at least not in the capacity I wanted.

And Hermione is coming soon! I swear! I want her here because I love her.

And developing friendships, WOOHOO!

As far as when I'll post chapters, about every week is probably realistic. Maybe less, because it's summer and maybe more when school starts up. I'll keep you guys updated. I cranked this one out though, because I was so inspired by you guys.

Also, Harry's not so much worried about his near death experience in chapter 1, he's just pissed that it had to happen in the first place. He's angry on principle, not because he or anyone else was actually worried about him dying. Except for maybe Madam Pomfrey. Or the school board because you can sue for that shit.

Please leave a review! Good, bad, anything, I love hearing from you guys and I love knowing that people got a big enough impression from my story to say something about it.

Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to upload. I had the chapter technically done a while ago, but I was computer-less and wifi-less for a while so I didn't get a chance to upload. To apologize, I will be uploading another chapter in another day or two and hopefully one more after that. But that remains to be seen.

Unfortunately, no Hermione in this one either, but it is thankfully a little less of a sausage fest now. Only a little though, so far. I love the original Harry Potter series, but there really weren't all that many major female characters. Hermione should almost definitely be in the next one though. Hopefully some more female characters too, because like I said, it was a sausage fest. Originally I was going to actually have Lee Jordan be on the Broom Racing team, but then I thought, "Hey, that's a lot of guys and Lee Jordan wasn't really big on flying in the books." So I chose Cho instead because I figured, who better than an incredible, intelligent flyer with lots of ambition? Plus, I always liked Cho and I felt bad that the only screen time she ever got was Harry's romantic interest in her, when she could have been a great character.

This chapter is a little shorter too, unfortunately. Not by a whole lot, but still. I was going to add more, but I felt like I had a good place to end it, so I ended it there. Also! Broom Racing Rules.

So you've got Novice, Intermediate, and Expert. Per each difficulty, there is Division 3, Division 2, and Division 1. Division 3 is the lowest difficulty within Novice, Intermediate, or Expert. Division 1 is the highest within each section. If you win 5 races in each division, you move up a division and eventually move up a difficulty. Each race is worth points, but Intermediate races are worth more than Novice and Expert more than Intermediate. Also, moving up a division is worth extra points and how much that is worth changes according to the difficulty. There are Midseason Finals and Finals which all lead up to the overall Championship. The team with the most points wins the Championship, much like the Quidditch Cup. Midseason Finals are worth extra points and so are Finals. There are 22 races per division in total, though 2 of those races are Midseason Finals and Finals. 10 races before Midseason, 10 races after Midseason. I have how many points everything is worth already worked out, but I'll be posting that later.

Also, if the race lasts more than an hour, it ends in a draw and no one wins any points. If there is a tie, it ends in a draw and no one wins any points. There must be at least 7 flyers to a team, though there can be more. However, only one person from each team is allowed to compete per race.

Harry will start out in Division 3, Novice. Cho is in Division 1, Novice. Alicia is in Division 3, Intermediate. Fred and George are Division 2, Intermediate. Cedric and Angelina are Division 1, Intermediate.

Anyways, here's the chapter guys. If there are some errors, please forgive me because I didn't have as much time to edit as I wanted since I really just wanted to get this uploaded after being away from it for so long. I think I caught most of them, but if there's something really bothering you, just let me know and I can go fix them.

XXXX

In retrospect, Harry really should have known the races would be held in the Forbidden Forest. He honestly didn't know where he expected they would be. It was the perfect cover, of course. No one ever came into the Forbidden Forest besides Hagrid, who to be frank, was not smart enough to uncover an underground illegal sport that had apparently been a Hogwarts tradition for generations. Everyone else was too scared to come into the Forbidden Forest, especially _this far_ into the Forbidden Forest.

" _There actually are plenty of things that can get you killed here." Fred explained._

" _But if you don't mess with them, they won't mess with you. Fairly simple. It's mostly the centaurs we have to put up with." George flashed Harry a confident smile._

" _Always telling us to bugger off, but sometimes you catch them watching the races."_

" _Hated it when we pointed that out."_

" _Don't you disturb the things in the forest while flying around?" Harry asked curiously. Fred shook his head._

" _Privacy charms, wards, all kinds of things on the track. Makes you subconsciously want to stay away. Some of the magic on it is_ old _. We've been doing this for a long time_."

The "track" was barely more than a path. It wasn't as heavily wooded as the rest of the forest, but there were still a number of trees that could prove to be dangerous.

" _What if you run into them?" Harry asked. "Isn't that dangerous?"_

" _Not everyone is so good at casting while flying; this way, you can just ram your opponent into a tree and take the lead."_

" _Oh."_

There was a sandpit at the beginning of the track, which was also the end of it. It was huge, and there were makeshift stands set up around it for the audience to sit in and watch the races. Lee Jordan was sitting in what looked like a little glass box, equipped with a microphone and a scoreboard. Fred and George explained to Harry that the glass was actually scrying material, so Lee could see different parts of the track. Some spectators had brought their own broomsticks so that they could follow the race by cutting through the trees in the middle of the track.

"There are other tracks too." Fred said, as they took a seat in the stands. Harry couldn't help but stare at all the people gathering by the sandpit. Harry knew Broom Racing was a lot bigger than it seemed, but he couldn't believe that this many students were involved.

" _You know how sometimes, completely unknown people who have never played Quidditch in their lives suddenly make a famous team?" Fred started, eyes glinting in the low light of the lit sandpit._

" _No." Harry answered._

" _Ah, well, it happens. And it's because those kids are involved with Broom Racing. Everyone in Quidditch knows it exists. But no one talks about it."_

" _Is it really that illegal?"_

" _No, not really." Fred rubbed his chin. "I mean, if we ever got caught, we'd all get some detentions. No big deal really. It's tradition. It's special."_

"What do you mean, there are other tracks?" Harry blinked, hard, leaning in. Fred and George exchanged looks.

"Wait til you see the underwater one."

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" They met Harry's eyes, but didn't say anything in response, just smiled.

Fred elbowed George.

"Forge, I think that's the girls over there."

"I do believe so, Gred." They waved Cho and Angelina over. Alicia wasn't with them, as she was competing today and was putting on her uniform.

Cho Chang was a tiny thirteen year old, with thin wrists and shoulders that made her look a bit like a little bird. But she had a way of squaring them that made Harry think she was tougher than she looked. She was very pretty too, and now Harry knew why the Twins started grinning every time they talked about Cho, staring at Harry pointedly.

"Harry, this is Cho Chang. She's the year ahead of you." Angelina said, introducing the two when they got close enough. Cho held out a calloused hand and Harry shook it. Their knuckles matched, both scraped and dry, cracking from being stretched over the bone

 _Cho must be one hell of a flyer_ , Harry thought.

"Gryffindor, right?" Cho inquired. Harry glanced down, searching out his house insignia, but he'd taken off both the tie and the sweater vest which was hot and ridiculous.

"Oh, yeah. Ravenclaw?" Harry gestured to Cho's loose tie.

"Heard you fought Draco Malfoy." Cho addressed him. She was shaping up to be a very straightforward person.

"I wouldn't call it a _fight_ , per se."

"Aren't you supposed to be in detention for pranking Snape?"

"Probably." Harry responded, with a small smile.

"Probably pranked Snape or probably should be in detention?"

"Neither." Fred jumped in

"He should be in detention-," George continued.

"-, and we pranked Snape."

"Only at dear Harrykins' request, of course." Cho smiled at Harry.

"How do you like Hogwarts so far?" She asked. Harry shrugged.

"It's okay. I would prefer fewer near death experiences, but you take what you can get, I suppose." Angelina snorted.

"If you think you have it bad, wait until you actually start racing."

Oh, yeah. Harry had forgotten he was among the adrenaline junkies.

"Yeah, but that's different. Like, it's one thing to do something stupid and have it come back and bite you in the ass. It's another thing to have a teacher nearly kill you on accident."

"You do have a point there." Angelina conceded. "Though I heard it was an assassination attempt."

" _WHAT?!_ " The team snickered at him, just as Cedric approached them.

"Harry!" He greeted the skinny boy loudly. "How are you doing? The last time I saw you, you were vomiting slugs onto Filch." Harry cringed.

"I'm sorry about your shoes, Cedric." Cedric waved his hand dismissively.

"You're fine, Harry. What happened? I never heard."

"It's a long story."

"Did Malfoy get you back?" George asked curiously.

"No, but I promised I wouldn't talk about it." Harry admitted. "I can't tell you guys."

"People are laughing at you." Cho said suddenly. "They think Malfoy did it and Malfoy lets them believe it. That's not fair. They think awful things about you now." Her brow furrowed, appearing from beneath her straight-cut bangs. "That's humiliating."

"Oh, believe me, being dragged to the Hospital Wing by arms, slugs down the front of my shirt while I retched uncontrollably was humiliating enough." Harry had heard people talking about him. He knew he had built up somewhat of a reputation and the slug incident had shattered that. All of a sudden, he lost the quiet awe he was gifted by his fellow students. He had been sneered at, laughed at, made fun of in all kinds of ways. People loves heroes, but more than anything, they liked to see them fall.

Harry thought it was all bullshit. He was _eleven_.

The next kid who pretended to vomit slugs at him during his Potions lesson though, was going to leave the room with a few less teeth.

It didn't bother him so much; kids always pulled this kind of shit. Soon enough, they would forget about him. But Harry watched the way it grated on Neville. He hadn't done it to guilt the boy, but Neville was feeling guilt. Harry had caught him on numerous occasions, nearly about to tell the truth. He'd done all he could to convince Neville it was useless. And it was; at this point, it didn't really matter what actually happened. No one would believe it anyways.

"It doesn't really matter. Kids are kids." Cedric slid onto the bench besides Harry and grinned, throwing his arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Yeah, but you're not just another firstie now. You're a Vipertooth now."

" _What the hell is a Peruvian Vipertooth?" Harry demanded. Cedric sighed._

" _It's a type of dragon. We let Charlie name the team."_

" _I don't know what we expected." Angelina added."_

"Vipertooths protect Vipertooths." Cedric insisted.

"I think this is a cult." Cedric laughed and ruffled Harry's hair. Harry glanced around the track curiously. "Alicia is competing today, right?" Angelina nodded in response.

"Yeah, she's got this one in the bag. Additionally, not to say that Alicia isn't a fantastic flyer, because she is, but most people aren't prepared for the first race. Or not as prepared as they should be."

"That's Alicia; always prepared." Cho added with a smile.

"Exactly how advanced is the intermediate division with attacking and defending?" Harry inquired seriously.

"You're taking this _way_ too seriously for a firstie." Fred commented.

"Just sit back and enjoy the show!"

"You'll see." Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Cedric squeezed Harry, arm still around the younger boy.

"These kids are tough though. They know spells we've never been taught and never will be. It's intense, Harry, I'll tell you that."

"I don't wanna brag," Angelina began. Cedric snorted.

"Yes, you do."

"Yeah, ok, I really do. But what I wanted to say is that we are a _really_ good team, especially for our age group. Most teams don't have kids our age pulling off d1 intermediate races. We don't have any flyers in Expert, but we can potentially garner enough points in intermediate and novice to win the championship anyways. If Charlie were still here, we would be guaranteed the championship."

"She's right." Cedric said. "We are a _good_ _team_. We were trained by some of the best from the previous years. We may not have a tradition, but we sure as hell will have a legacy."

"And you picked _me_ to replace Charlie." Harry blinked at them. He barely knew how to fly. Even as a firstie, he was inexperienced. It stunned him that they chose him over someone like Ron who had been flying all his life. "Don't be surprised when you're disappointed."

"Don't sell yourself short." Cho said, straightening up. "You wouldn't be here if they didn't see something in you."

"Aw, that's so sweet I think my teeth are rotting." Harry snarked back, but he flashed the skinny girl an appreciative smile so she wouldn't think he was making fun of her. "Thanks, Cho." Cho smiled back, pink dusting her cheeks.

A loud horn sounded across the track and people began scurrying to the stands. The Vipertooths shifted up a couple of rows, but jammed together tightly to give other teams space. Cedric had one arm around Harry and the other draped around Angelina.

It was really quite beautiful out, Harry observed. He had lived in the city all his life and the pollution blocked out the stars at night. It wasn't like that at Hogwarts; they were all visible, covering the sky. There were more than Harry had ever seen before, more than he had ever imagined. He'd seen in up at the Old Astronomy Tower with Blaise, but it wasn't quite the same as seeing patches of the sky through the leaves of the trees that looked black in the dim light.

The track was barely lit, trees marking the slightly cleared path. Large screens began to come into view, hovering 90 feet above the sandpit. It was showing different parts of the track, empty for now, but soon to be covered in speeding flyers.

The flyers of each team began to filter out towards the field. There were 13 teams competing in Intermediate's division 3 currently. The names were strange, from the Rebels to the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Fred and George had explained to Harry that some of the teams were old; they inducted new members at an early age and passed the name of the team on. There were old dynasties, teams that had been around for hundreds of years and had always remained strong, quality teams even among the newly formed and newly dissipated teams that came and go with the students at Hogwarts. Bill and Charlie, the Weasley's older brothers, had formed the Vipertooths when they attended Hogwarts and everyone involved was determined to make it stick.

" _FLYERS, SPECTATORS, TEAMS. TODAY, WE WELCOME YOU ALL TO THE BEGINNING OF THE BROOM RACING CHAMPIONSHIP!"_ Lee Jordan's voice boomed across the track. People roared in response, cheering loudly. " _WE WILL BEGIN WITH THE AN INTERMEDIATE, DIVISION 3 RACE. NO POINTS WILL BE AWARDED AND THIS IS NOT AN OFFICIAL CHAMPIONSHIP RACE. WE WILL TRULY KICK OFF THE SEASON WITH ALL THE NOVICE RACES. AS MOST OF YOU KNOW, THERE ARE 10 RACES PER DIVISION BY THE MIDSEASON FINALS. IF YOU WIN 5 RACES, YOU MOVE UP A DIVISION AND WILL BE AWARDED EXTRA POINTS FOR THAT. ONCE YOU HAVE REACHED DIVISION 1 OF YOUR DIFFICULTY, BE IT NOVICE, INTERMEDIATE, OR EXPERT, AND HAVE WON 5 RACES, YOU WILL MOVE UP TO THE NEXT DIFFICULTY. MIDSEASON FINALS WILL FINISH BEFORE HOLIDAY BREAK AND THE SECOND HALF OF THE SEASON WILL KICK OFF FROM THERE!"_ Fred and George had already explained all of this to Harry already, but Lee always went over the basics at the beginning of the season. " _WE HAVE A FAST AND ROUGH SEASON AHEAD OF US, SO BUCKLE UP AND GET READY DEAL OUT AS MUCH SHIT AS YOU TAKE."_ The crowd screamed. " _OUR COMPETITORS TODAY ARE_ -," Lee began to list off the names, but the Vipertooths were too busy waving at Alicia who was standing in the sandpit, wearing form-fitting black clothing with a Peruvian Vipertooth dragon on the back of her jersey. The dragon occasionally shifted and roared. There was no required uniform for the racers, but the general consensus seemed to lie with form-fitting clothing. No one wanted to get caught on a tree.

" _FLYERS, TAKE YOUR PLACES."_ The flyers mounted their brooms and flew up to just below the screens. Players were allowed to fly above the treeline, but the smart ones didn't. It turned into an all out battle up there, more dueling than racing. It was easier for flyers to lose their way too. " _THE RACE CONSISTS OF THREE LAPS AND YOU MUST FOLLOW THE TRACK. NO CUTTING ACROSS IS ALLOWED. NO KILLING OR MAIMING IS ALLOWED. ANYTHING ELSE IS FAIR GAME. YOU ARE ENCOURAGED TO BE AS CREATIVE AS YOU CAN. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS DIRTY FIGHTING. IF THE RACE LASTS MORE THAN AN HOUR, IT ENDS IN A DRAW. IF TWO PLAYERS TIE, IT ENDS IN A DRAW. FLYERS, READY?"_ The crowd roared in excitement. Harry himself was getting excited. It sounded violent and dangerous and _fantastic_.

" _SET...!"_ Lee blew his whistle. The flyers took off so quickly that Harry felt the wind hit the crowd. They were _fast_.

Even before they were out of sight, things were getting violent. Harry watched, stunned, as one flyer in a red jersey rammed another one into a tree so hard the wood splintered. The flyer bounced off and spun out of control into the group of oncoming racers, who swerved to avoid him. In seconds, spells were flying. One flyer cleared his path with a jet of flame, just as another threw up a shield and bounced the flames off. They disappeared into the trees and all eyes flicked up to the screen.

Even out of sight, Harry could still hear the flyers screaming spells and swears at each other and the crowd was into it, cheering their team, or booing their opponents. The screens followed the flyers. One flicked up to the flyers above the tree line, who were trading spells in a spectacular light show. Some were harmless, such as giving one student antlers. Others, like the Bludgeoning Hex, were less so.

Apparently, the Broom Racers held a very loose definition of "maiming".

Harry spotted Alicia on the other camera and he nearly stood up in excitement as he watched her. She was flying at an incredible speed, eyes narrowed behind a pair of goggles, mouth set in a grim line. She was dodging spells that flew at her left and right. She threw a Leg-Locking curse at the flyer in front of her, who careened out of control and hit a tree. She took a small loop around a tree in the middle of the track and slammed her shield into the face of another flyer, who went skidding backwards. She quickly set back up on her path, tossing out another spell that Harry didn't recognize.

In a few seconds though, the spell went off like a bomb, throwing back flyers and propelling Alicia forward. One flyer threw up a strange looking shield and overcame the extreme force, throwing bright spells at Alicia who alternated between dodging them, parrying them, or blocking them. She aimed a couple of her own, but was hit by a spell that draped a snake across her. Without a change in expression, she grabbed the snake and flung it into the group behind her. It hissed as it slammed into a flyers face, causing the boy to scream loudly.

Alicia was certainly at the front of the pack, but it wasn't as if the other players lacked skill. Things were getting brutal; blood spattered trees as they flew by. One girl broke her arm and in return punched a boy off his broom, before sending a cloud of birds at her opponents. They screeched as they pecked at the other flyers. Alicia got nailed in the side by a particularly angry one, but she batted it away. Still, she lost her place and was now aiming some nasty hexes at the flyers in front of her. Harry saw blood on her hands from a small wound in her side, but it was being blown off at the speed she was flying.

Up above the treeline, it had truly turned into a Battle Royale. Harry had seen bone-breaking curses, burning curses, vigorous cleaning curses that knocked a few kids off their brooms, enchanted objects, enchanted trees, blinding light to slow them down.

"This is fucking insane." Harry said out loud, eyes wide.

"This is what we do for _fun_." Angelina said.

"How is no one _dead_?"

"Cushioning charms, protection charms. Preventative measures are just as important as your spell volume." Cho responded. "Spells to keep bugs out of your mouth, impervious goggles, stuff like that. That way, if you get hit with a Bludgeoning Hex, spin out of control, and hit a tree, you can keep on going."

"Has anyone ever died?" Harry wanted to know.

"Not for a few hundred years. The Novice races aren't this hard though, so don't worry." Cho promised.

"What would you say are the differences between the difficulty levels?"

"Novice is mostly about getting up speed and maneuverability." Cedric said.

"Intermediate is about adding spells. But spells and broom maneuverability are hard to maintain at the same time. You can tell that a lot of spells are missing their target or the brooms spin out of control easily. They get stuck by the time restraints a lot in Division 3. Often, Division 3 races end in draws." Cho explained. "You may not have noticed, but they're going on twenty minutes soon and they haven't even finished the first lap."

"As do other Intermediate races." Cedric finished. "So Novice to Intermediate isn't that huge of a jump, but Intermediate to Expert is. Expert is even more insane than this. Those kids fall hundreds of feet, get back up, and go on to win the race. It's an unspoken rule that the Expert kids don't get caught by time restraints."

"It'll pick up soon, though. Speed wise." Angelina said. "A lot of kids tire themselves out in the beginning and can't keep up for the last two laps. That's why Alicia's going to win. Her stamina is better because of Quidditch."

"Y'know, Lee's not even talking." Harry commented, eyes glued to the screens.

"Yeah, I think he forgets sometimes." Fred snickered.

"Doesn't need to though, it's loud enough already." Subsequently, the crowd screamed in excitement as a flyer smashed into a tree. "It's too fast for him to keep up, really. Not like Quidditch at all." George said.

A bright light filled the screen, blinding the crowd momentarily. When it dissipated, Alicia and four other flyers shot across the sandpit to start their second lap. A few more flyers followed and several shot _over_ the screen to continue their mid-air battle. But Angelina was right; their speed had decreased significantly, as well as their attack power.

The second lap had Alicia throwing out distracting spells that were ultimately harmless as she pulled ahead. A lot of people went down the second lap; Harry was horrified at the number of people that crashed into trees or fell 50 feet, getting caught by stray spells.

The third lap had Alicia pulling ahead significantly. She took out her last two real competitors with some Bludgeoning Hex's and crossed the finish line just 6 minutes short of an hour.

"AND THE WINNER IS ALICIA SPINNET OF THE PERUVIAN VIPERTOOTHS! CONGRATULATIONS ON THE FIRST RACE OF THE SEASON!"

The crowds sprung from their seats, throwing up their arms and screaming in excitement as Alicia crossed the finish line and took a victory lap over the sandpit.

"ALICIA!" Angelina screamed, waving at her friend who waved back at the Vipertooths. Harry had followed them to his feet, cheering. The good feeling was infectious. He had never been to a large event with a big crowd before and it was incredibly easy to get swept up in it. Alicia lighted down and the team sprinted over to her. Cedric had grabbed Harry by the back of his shirt, hauling the smaller boy behind him to keep him from getting trampled by the ecstatic well-wishers.

The Vipertooths surrounded Alicia, congratulating her. They took turns hugging her and talking about the race. The dark-haired girl looked exhausted, her face flushed and hair plastered to her face with sweat from where it had fallen from her bun. But she was smiling all the same.

"So," She said, catching her breath. "How'd you like the races, Harry?"

"That was incredible. I'm _so_ glad I ditched Filch for this." Harry thought of Malfoy left to scrub floors by himself and nearly laughed.

The scoreboard flickered to life above them, but no points were awarded to any teams.

"SORRY GUYS, NO POINTS FOR THIS RACE, BUT BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME TO EVERYONE! CONGRATULATIONS, ALICIA!" The Vipertooths cheered in response and several other teams clapped good-naturedly.

" _Yeah, the racers are competitive, but not like it is Quidditch. In Quidditch, teams get nasty towards each other. Sometimes things get tense between the top racers at the end of the season, but we're here to have fun, ultimately." Cedric explained. "It probably helps that there aren't house specific teams. No house pride to defend. I think you'll like it. It's good sportsmanship."_

" _You guys are trying to_ kill _each other." Harry responded, eyebrows raised incredulously. Cedric shrugged, grinning._

" _Hey, that's just part of the game."_

XXXX

Harry climbed back through the window, grinning. He had decided, above all else, that it was high time to fuck around with Filch. The bucket and the brush were still sitting there, right where he had left them. He could hear Malfoy scrubbing around the corner, heatedly complaining to himself, swearing about how a certain Gryffindor had ditched detention and why he hadn't done so too.

He even heard Malfoy freeze as Harry resumed his scrubbing of the floor.

"Kasinger?" Malfoy asked cautiously, from around the corner.

"Hey, Malfoy."

"Where the hell have you been?" Harry shrugged to himself.

"Around." Harry heard Malfoy's knuckles rap against the floor as he scrubbed harder, frustrated with the Gryffindor.

"Filch is running up and down the halls screaming about you, trying to find you. You're in _big_ trouble, Gryffindor." Malfoy sniffed, sounding satisfied.

"Hey, Malfoy."

" _What?_ " The blonde boy demanded.

"Book it out of here. I'll cover for you, you cover for me."

"What the hell do you mean?" Malfoy sounded confused.

"I mean, we can probably convince Filch he's losing his mind. You say that I was here the whole time, I'll say you were here the whole time." Harry had a plan, alright. He probably couldn't pull this on anyone besides Filch, though, so he fully intended to use it.

"And why would I want to do that?"

"No more detention with Filch if they think he's losing his mind." Harry spelled it out for him. " _Ever_. Maybe they'll even go the extra mile and fire him from Hogwarts if you appeal to your dad or something." Harry didn't feel bad at all for conspiring to get a staff member fired. Filch was long out of date at Hogwarts and frankly, the man was crazy. He'd seen him grab kids by their ears, threaten to torture them, just for being out a minute _before_ curfew, claiming that they were planning on breaking it. He confiscated wands for absolutely no reason, other than the user looked 'shifty'. It was out of control.

And that _demon_ cat of his. Harry liked cats. A lot. But not Mrs. Norris. He'd been bitten by her three times now, and he had not been doing anything wrong.

"That's ridiculous and it'll never work." Malfoy claimed, but Harry detected a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"I don't see any other witnesses."

"I don't know about this, Kasinger."

"Come on. You just have to hide for ten minutes. When I've got him distracted, you come back." The scrubbing stopped around the corner as he considered Harry's proposal.

"I don't know about this." Harry attempted to appeal to the blonde boy.

"Slytherin would _love_ you to pieces if you got rid of Filch. Could you imagine going down in Hogwarts history as the student who got rid of Filch?"

It was about ten minutes before Filch circled back around, sounding out of breath. His back was to the corridor Harry was down and Harry heard a sharp intake of breath.

"NOT YOU TO, MALFOY! YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH THIS!"

Harry grinned.

"KASINGER! MALFOY!" He roared. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Right here, sir." Filch jumped about a foot in the air, spinning around. His eyes were wild and his hair standing straight up with sweat and anxiety. Filch was a little man and Harry swore that he was 30% unresolved anger and 20% anxiety.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" He shrieked, giving Harry a clear view of his crooked, rotting teeth.

"I've been here, sir."

"LIKE HELL YOU'VE BEEN!" Harry pulled his best, confused face.

"Sir, I have very much been _here_."

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU ANSWER WHEN I YELLED FOR YOU?"

"I'm sorry sir, I couldn't understand what you were saying. I thought you were yelling at someone breaking curfew or something. You weren't being very clear."

"Then where is Malfoy?" Filch hissed, eyes narrowing. His hands were clenched into fists at his side. Harry blinked innocently at the grizzly old man.

"He's just around the corner, sir."

"NO, HE IS NOT!"

"Sir?" Malfoy's voice broke in. Filch jumped again, twisting his head around. Harry could see the shock that came over the old man as he saw Malfoy. He backed up against the balcony, turning his head back and forth between the two boys, pointing at them wildly. Harry was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

"YOU!"

"Yes sir?" Malfoy asked politely.

"YOU WEREN'T HERE A SECOND AGO!"

"Of course he was, sir." Harry said. "You could even hear him scrubbing."

"YOU WEREN'T HERE EITHER!"

"Yes, he was sir. I can vouch for him." Filch gripped the balcony, knuckles going white, an expression of fear on his face.

"Are you alright, sir?" Harry inquired. "You look a bit pale."

"SHUT UP!" Harry flicked his eyes away from Filch, back down at his scrubbing. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU TWO HAVE DONE TO ME, BUT WHEN I FIND OUT...!"

 _He thinks we put a spell on him_. Harry could have laughed.

"Sir?" Malfoy asked in a perfectly innocent voice.

 _Ooh, you're good at this. Malfoy, if you weren't such an arrogant little shit, we could be friends._

XXXX

Long story short, Filch was no longer considered fit to supervise detentions. Everyone in the Great Hall cheered for a certain Slytherin's action in reporting the distressing experience, with support from his Gryffindor detention partner. The teachers were so surprised at the Gryffindor-Slytherin cooperation that they acted immediately, figuring it _must_ be serious.

And Harry had been right; the Slytherins embraced Malfoy with open arms for his part in the ploy. Harry let Malfoy take the credit, really. Malfoy had a tendency to brag and he needed it. Slytherin was a tough house. Not for the first time, Harry was glad he didn't come from a family of wizards. That Malfoy's were like a Hogwarts dynasty, according to Ron. Harry couldn't imagine trying to live up to something like that. He sympathized with Malfoy _and_ Neville.

 _Those two have more in common than they think._

Harry didn't care much about the credit, though he did tell the Vipertooths about what a fantastic prank he had pulled; he figured they could appreciate it and had the decency to keep it under wraps.

At least Harry was out of Malfoy's bad books.

XXXX

It was a beautiful day; clear skies and warm weather, but with a pleasantly cool breeze. Harry and his roommates were gathered around the Quidditch pitch, ready for the crash course in flying culture. Seamus knew a lot about Quidditch but very little about flying, while Harry and Dean knew nothing about either. Neville was dedicated to keeping both feet firmly planted on the ground though, no matter how the other boys tried to convince him otherwise.

"I think I've flown enough already." Neville claimed and that was hard to argue with.

"So what really happened with Filch?" Ron asked curiously, while the group got ready to mount their Cleansweeps.

"My lips are sealed." Harry responded, grinning. "But if you're wondering whether or not we actually put a spell on Filch, the answer is no. No magic was involved." He promised.

"So is Filch really losing his mind?" Dean inquired.

"Probably." Seamus snorted.

"About bloody time. He keeps trying to catch me out after curfew, _before_ curfew. Bloody ridiculous."

"Everyone's happy, at least." Neville said. "No more detention with Filch. I've gotta say, Harry, you've really narrowed down the list of people you can serve detentions with."

"I know."

"Okay everyone, get ready to kick off like they taught us in class." Ron said. "Just kind of hover, first. And if you feel like you're losing balance, hold on with your legs. Hand position isn't so important now, but it's your thighs that'll keep you upright." The group kicked off gently, hovering 20 feet above the ground.

"This is so weird." Dean said, leaning to the side and glancing down at the ground. Neville waved up at them. "And terrifying." Seamus, on the other hand, was looking straight ahead, eyes wide. He gripped his broom tightly.

"Bloody hell." He said, refusing to look down. "I could die up here, you know? Like, I could legitimately _die_." Harry peered over.

"Nah, you probably wouldn't die if you fell. At twenty feet you have enough time to correct your posture, try not to land on your head. I hear fifteen feet is the killer though; high enough to kill, not enough time to correct your posture. Don't quote me on that, though."

"Thanks, Harry. I feel so much _better_." Seamus sneered back. Ron snorted.

"You'll be fine, Seamus. Wizards are sturdier than Muggles. A twenty foot fall won't kill you."

"Y'know, that actually explains a lot." Dean said and Harry nodded in agreement.

" _Anyways_ ," Ron said. "Brooms are magical, so a lot of is just about intent. When you want to go forward, all you really have to do, is want to do so. A lot of people also do this." Ron demonstrated by leaning forward on his broom. "But it's really just about intent. It sounds hard, but you'll catch on quick."

"That's so weird." Dean said.

"To steer, you use your legs and your body. So flying is really very easy, but if you lose focus or don't know what you're doing, it's even easier to spin out of control." No one was saying it, but the first day of flying lessons were on everyone's mind.

"We'll get Neville back up here someday." Harry said out loud, breaking the tension. Ron smiled and nodded.

"Speed will come later, let's just focus on flying for a bit, why don't we? I'll demonstrate and then you guys can take turns and I'll help you out." Ron shot forward and flew around for a bit, slowly and leisurely. He went around in a circle, took some turns. He went up, down, and the boys watched his body posture as he did so, keeping in mind how to position themselves. He finally stopped in front of them. "Who's next?"

"I'll go." Dean offered. He leaned forward on his broom and Ron moved out of the way. The broom shot forward quickly, earning a cry from Dean, but he quickly settled on a more manageable speed. He took some reluctant turns, but was clearly getting the hang of it. His ride wasn't nearly as smooth as Ron's, though.

"Don't worry about the ride; that'll come with practice and as you gain confidence." Ron assured him. Finally, Dean looped back around and rejoined them, coming to a very sudden stop. He jerked on his broom, surprised.

"How was it?" Seamus asked.

"Terrifying. But it's fun, really. I think I'll enjoy it more when I'm less nervous."

"You did great, Dean. Seamus, you want to go next?" Seamus looked like a deer in headlights, but nodded nonetheless.

"Sure..." He was much jerkier than Dean, a result of his feat. His turns were sharp, and hard, and occasionally he'd make a noise of fear. He went very slowly, afraid to increase his speed, but he was beginning to ease into the turns, rather than jerk his broomstick to the side.

"Keep your head up, Seamus." Ron called. "Don't watch your own broomstick or look down. Look where you want to end up, not where you are." Seamus ended the ride much better than he began, his fear fading as he pulled up between Dean and Harry.

"You did good, mate." Ron said to Seamus, who snorted.

"You don't have to lie to me, I know I was terrible."

"You improved a lot?" Ron offered. The Irish boy considered this.

"I'll take it."

"Harry, you wanna go?" Harry nodded and moved forward slightly on his broom.

"Alright, before you guys say anything, just remember I've been on a broom twice before, instead of once. I've had a bit more practice." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Come on. I saw you with the twins. You've had more than a bit of practice."

"I feared for my _life_." Harry defended himself.

"Don't apologize for being a natural." Ron said. "You're good and they aren't as good. That's okay. Your parents must have been good flyers."

"My parents are dead." Harry said automatically. He froze when he noticed the other boys looking at him with wide eyes, horrified expressions on their faces.

"I'm so sorry." Ron looked wounded. "I didn't mean to-,"

"No, it's fine." Harry said quickly. "I didn't mean to imply anything. It just came out. I'm not too torn up about it, they died before I knew them and I have it a lot better than a lot of the other kids at the orphanage. I just-, it just came out. I'm used to having to tell people, er, other Muggles. I just said it automatically, you don't have to make it a thing about it." Harry had no idea what he was saying. "Anyways, I'm Muggleborn, or at least I probably am since no one at Hogwarts has said anything about knowing my parents-," Harry should really have stopped talking.

It was a chain reaction, really. Harry's parents were dead, or at least he hoped they were and would rather think they were since someone left him in a dumpster as a baby. No one knew his name so he got named Hadrian Kasinger by the system, named after some old donors to the orphanage. Since he didn't know his real name, no one at the school really did either so there was no way to know if his parents were wizards or not.

Though, since the magical, all-knowing school records didn't have him registered as a wizard baby or else they surely would have known his actual name, he assumed that he was Muggleborn.

"I'm probably Muggleborn, is what I'm trying to say." Harry finally said. "Most certainly Muggleborn anyways." He rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. He could feel his face burning.

"No, it's, um, fine. I'm sorry for bringing it up." Ron clearly had no idea what he was apologizing for, just that he felt he had to.

"No, don't apologize. It's fine."

"I'm sorry, though. About your parents." Seamus offered.

"My condolences." Dean said. "It must have been hard growing up without parents."

"It's hard growing up." Harry said with a shrug.

"I'm surprised though, that you never said anything about this. You've been our roommate for nearly a month now." Ron said.

"You mean you're surprised I didn't say anything to Neville so we could form a Dead Parents Club." Ron looked shocked.

"I didn't-,"

"No, it's fine." Harry cut him off. "I'm not mad about it or anything. That's just kinda what people expect a lot. At the orphanage they assume we all get along because we have these shared experiences of dead parents and _boohoo_ are always just about _drowning_ in grief. It's never really about grief or anything, life is just different without parents." Harry paused. _What am I doing. What the hell am I doing. Why don't I stop talking. Why am I still talking. JESUS CHRIST I NEED TO STOP_. "And it's still hard as hell to get along with some of those little bastards."

"I don't really know what to say." Ron admitted.

"You don't have to say anything,JesusChristImadethis _reallyreally_ awkward. I'msorrylet'sjust y'knowgetonwithitbeforeImakeabiggerfoolofmyselfIdidn'tmeantoreallysaythatandIdidn'tsayitwiththeintentionofmakingthingsawkwardI'mjustreallysorry. I'm just gonna go." Harry ducked his head, face burning. He stared at the grown and shot forward.

 _I can't believe I said all of that._

 _Really. I didn't mean to. That was so goddamn stupid. Damn it._

He was so used to being surrounded by people who already knew, and so used to automatically informing people who didn't. Typically for legal reasons, school reasons. Just people he had to tell. It had just _come out_. And he was worried he made them feel bad, and even more worried that they _thought_ he had said it just to make them feel bad. He never intended for that to happen.

 _Damn it. Damn it! GODDAMNIT I REALLY HATE MYSELF SOMETIMES._

 _FUCK ME._

He picked up some speed, wanting to feel the wind on his face. He had the incredible urge to just ram himself into one of the stands, to just bang his head against something until the redness in his face went down, until he was less embarrassed by all the bullshit he spewed.

 _God fucking damn it I'm just beginning to make friends and now I've gone and ruined my best chance._

 _Why am I always so bad at this?_

 _Being a Vipertooth went fine which was weird so I should have known I should have known I should have fucking known..._

"HARRY!" Harry pulled to the side abruptly, the tail end of his broom scraping against the stands. He skidded to a stop, looking up at Ron who was hovering above him, a concerned look on his face.

"What?" He asked, tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth.

"Merlin, Harry, I thought you were going to _hit_ that. You were going really fast, mate." Ron leaned over. "Are you okay? You don't seem okay."

"Not really. I'm sorry for saying a lot of stupid shit."

"What do you mean?"

"I talk a lot when I'm nervous. Like _a lot_. And I don't think about what I say before I say it and I'm just really sorry I just didn't wanttomkaethingsawkwardandIalreadyhavewhichisy'know, aboutwhatIexpected-,"

"Harry." Harry swallowed.

"I know."

"Why are you so nervous?" Ron asked, confused. "I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?"

"No, I just...I'm not good at making friends. And I want to be friends. And everything I say, and everytime I see you all, I just...I don't want to say. I don't know how to talk to kids my age. I never really had friends and I never really had anyone my age around me. And like, with your brothers and Cedric and Lee it's easier because they're older and more experienced socially and all and they take they lead when it comes to making friends, but at our age kids are terrible at doing that and it's more of a dual effort that I'm frankly just not all that good at-,"

"Harry." Harry closed his mouth abruptly. Ron snorted above him. "I have never met a kid who talks like you."

"I know. It's the whole, 'being an orphan' thing. You either get treated like a baby or like an adult."

"You want to be friends?" Ron asked. Harry swallowed again and eyed Ron nervously.

"I'll say it right now, I don't want to say yes and then get made fun of for it."

"You're a lot more nervous than you come off as."

"I know."

"I want to be your friend too, you know. You don't have to be so nervous."

"I am too socially awkward not to be." Ron grinned down at him.

"There. We're friends now. Do you feel any better?"

"The immense sense of dread is still there, but it's a little better."

"Y'know, I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I know, hence the immense sense of dread. Not that I didn't want to be. I didn't think any of you guys would like me. And plus you and Neville sort of fell in together immediately and I didn't want to be that weird person who tries to break into what is clearly a strong friendship. And I was kind of okay with not being friends as long as I didn't look so incredibly weak, except it turns out I'm not okay with that."

"I just... it's hard to explain." Harry said. "I wanted friends my own age, but it never really seemed like a possibility. So I just kind of...left off because it was easier. I can be aggressive and mean and pick lots of fights and cause lots of trouble but I'm pretty much terrified by the simplest things." Ron rolled his eyes.

"You need to stop worrying about all this. You're overthinking. None of us were thinking anything nearly that complicated."

"I'm not as brave as you think I am."

"Yes, you are." Ron flew down by Harry, gently touching his arm. "Now come on, I still have to teach you Quidditch."

XXXX

Hey guys! So I hope you all enjoyed this. I really wanted to develop the relationship between Ron and Harry and I'm satisfied with that. Because let's be honest. An orphaned, isolated child was going to have all types of problems socializing normally. I wouldn't exactly call the Vipertooths normal. I was hoping to get some other stuff in this chapter, but I felt that I had a good place to wrap up all the broom-related things.

Also, no Harry will not be making the Quidditch team this year. But more mischief is definitely on the way. Trouble-making Harry is my favorite kind of Harry.

If the next chapter isn't posted Tuesday, I'd say expect it Thursday, because Sharknado 3 is premiering Wednesday and that's probably the most important thing I have going on right now.

But really though, I love you guys and please shoot me a review! Hearing from you guys is so incredibly inspiring. Even if you don't think you have anything new to say, please, please say something! It means the world to me.

Also, suggestions are welcome to. Suggestions for pranks, characters you want to hear from, stuff like that. This is by no means going to turn into fanservice, but my outline is pretty vague. I have what I want and a basic idea of how I want to get there, but there is a lot of room along the way. I'll still go with what I feel is right, but at the rate this story is going, _first year_ is going to be novel length. The entire story, even longer.

Have a good week and tune in for Sharknado 3 on Wednesday!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! So I'm back with another chapter. It's a pretty long one too. I'm really glad I finished it today because I didn't think I would get it up until Thursday otherwise. So there's more Hermione in this chapter. Not as much as I wanted, but some, so at least there's that. I really, really wanted to include a few other things (like more Hermione) but then the timeline would be all weird and I would have skipped over some pretty important events like the first Novice race and I didn't want to do that. Also, if I still did include it, it would probably be _at leas_ t a 15,000 word chapter and I very clearly wasn't about to do that. But don't you worry; big things are coming to Fortune Favors the Bold.

I wanted to include more of Harry actually doing magic in this one too, so I'm glad I got that in.

Also, if you guys are wondering about the timeline, I'm at about mid-October now.

I hope you guys enjoy!

XXXX

"Mr. Kasinger, how have you fared?" Harry jerked abruptly in class. He had been talking quietly with Blaise. Harry was decent enough at Transfiguration and with help from Blaise, had burned through the Transfiguration lesson easily. It was the third part to the lesson; they had been working on turning a match into a needle for about a week now. The first day had been largely unsuccessful, with the exception of Hermione Granger. The second day was when the majority of the successes took place and the third was to turn the needle back into the match.

"I turned the needle back." Harry said to McGonagall. She was standing by their table, peering down at Blaise and Harry, who were certainly not talking about Transfiguration.

"Really? Why don't you show me?" She suggested, raising an eyebrow. "Turn your match into a needle and back again."

"O-okay?" Harry didn't know why McGonagall was pressing him all of a sudden, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was to do with the trouble he'd gotten into recently. McGonagall had an unspoken policy; troublemakers would be troublemakers, but she would only tolerate mischievous behavior and give her students the benefit of the doubt as long as they proved themselves to her as intelligent and hard-working. Harry had initially earned McGonagall's trust by telling her the truth, but with the recent Filch incident, Harry figured she needed a little more reassurance.

He focused on the match in front of him, thinking of what Blaise had said.

" _Transfiguration is fluid." Blaise said. "You can't think of a match as just a match. All objects can become something else. Current existence does not mean permanent existence. Everything is fleeting" Harry snorted._

" _That sounds deep." Blaise rolled his eyes._

" _Just transfigure your damn match."_

Harry stared at his match, waving his wand over it. He imagined it melting and reforming as a needle, shiny and silver, glinting in the light. so thin it sometimes got stuck between the grooves on the wooden table.

He blinked, and in a moment, the needle had replaced the match.

"Nice job, Mr. Kasinger." McGonagall approved of his work. "But can you change it _back_?" Changing it back was not all that hard; Harry used the same method and soon enough, he had his match back. McGonagall put her hands on her hips, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Is that sufficient?"

"More than. I daresay you beat out Miss Granger for mastery right now." Harry jerked a thumb at his partner.

 _Blatant house favoritism._ What everyone was thinking, but no one said.

"Honestly, you're probably thinking of Blaise." McGonagall looked curiously at the quiet Slytherin.

"Well, then congratulations to you, Mr. Zabini."

"Thank you, Professor." McGonagall nodded, a brief expression of unease flitting across her face.

"Mr. Kasinger, I wanted to talk to you about the upcoming Quidditch season." Harry blinked up at his professor.

"First years aren't allowed to play, though." McGonagall nodded.

"I know. But I saw your flying the other day with Mr. Weasley, Mr. Finnegan, and Mr. Thomas. I just wanted to comment on your speed and maneuverability. It was remarkable, not just for a first year. You might give some older players a run for their money."

"Thanks, Professor." McGonagall smiled.

"You should go talk to Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor team captain and definitely consider trying out next year. We've been looking for a good seeker and I'm confident you'd make the team, with skills like that." McGonagall looked positively giddy at the prospect. "In fact, I may even be able to work something out to let you play this year, if you were interested." McGonagall was very clearly hoping that Harry was interested. Harry glanced at Blaise, whose face held an indiscernible expression. Harry had an idea about what it meant, though.

"Yeah, I've already talked to Fred and George about it. Angelina too, she thinks I'd be a good player. But I'm not really interested in Quidditch, to be honest. And I don't think it would be fair to the other first years who would like to play, especially since I have no interest or background in flying or Quidditch."

Harry watched as McGonagall's face fell, feeling a bit smug. Harry understood that McGonagall wanted her house to succeed, but it wasn't fair. The other houses didn't get these kinds of exceptions to the rules. And within the house, what about people like Ron, who would be more than happy to play and knew all there was to know about Quidditch?

Harry could tell Blaise was satisfied, without even looking at the boy next to him. Blaise had never said much about house rivalries or bias, but Harry could tell the other boy's opinions burned bright and strong. Blaise never _had_ to say anything.

"That's...that's very...mature of you, Mr. Kasinger." McGonagall said, crestfallen at his response. "You should still look into it next year, though. You might find you enjoy it and the team would be happy to have you." She cleared her throat and swept off to talk with the other students.

"Well, that wasn't awkward at all." Blaise muttered, rolling his shoulders. Harry rubbed his jaw.

"It could have gone worse."

"You're not _wrong_." Blaise cocked an eyebrow at Harry. "Do you actually...like Quidditch?"

"Eh." Ron had taught Harry and they played for a bit with the other boys, but Harry didn't really see the appeal. Sure it was _fun_ to play a game of pick-up Quidditch, but the extremity of Quidditch culture didn't make any sense to Harry. "It's alright."

"Thanks, for saying no." Blaise muttered, staring at his feet.

"I didn't do it for you."

"I know...but thanks anyways."

"Do _you_ like Quidditch? I think that's the real question here." Harry teased him. Blaise didn't seem all that keen on flying. Blaise looked at him, wide-eyed.

"Merlin, no. It's stupid."

"Flying or Quidditch."

"Both." Harry considered this.

"Fair point. I like flying, though. I mean, like I can recognize how incredibly stupid the sport is. I mean, broomsticks? How cliche can you get? And I don't really understand how all the mechanics work in the first place, but I still like it, I think. A lot." Blaise shrugged.

"You're good at it. A natural."

"I really don't think that's a thing. People keep telling me that, but I don't think that's a thing." Blaise exhaled, shaking his head and smiling.

"It's okay, you know, to be good at something and be proud of it."

"Me? Good at things? Talent?" Harry made a face. "No, no, no. That's not a thing. I cause trouble. That's about it."

"You're pretty decent at magic."

"With lots of help. You included." Harry pointed out. He wasn't a good student by design. Never had been, and never would be and he didn't expect that to change the moment he got invited to some fancy-schmancy boarding school. Not that he was the worst student there; but he would never be a master at these things. He managed in Charms and Transfiguration; Potions was an absolute trainwreck. Herbology and Astronomy didn't actually have much to do with magic and Harry would probably never get a chance to try his hand at Defense Against the Dark Arts with Quirrell around. Though, rumor was that they got a new DADA teacher every year. Something to do with a curse on the position.

Yeah right. Harry would believe it when he saw it.

"So you're not a master of it. But you're still good, especially for a first year." Blaise gestured around the room. "Most of these kids have lived their entire lives around magic. There is no way that the first spell they ever tried was here at Hogwarts. That gives them an unfair advantage and you should know that." Harry carded a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, but look at _Granger_." Blaise rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.

"She does _not_ count." Harry glanced over at the bushy-haired girl in question. He struggled to get along with her. Deep down, he knew that she was having a hard time making friends and finding her place in this entirely new world. He knew that he should cut her some more slack, talk to her, help her out. She didn't have the opportunities he'd had so far and he should talk to her, Muggleborn to Muggleborn since clearly, no one had.

But she could be so _frustrating_. She _had_ to know everything about magic. She _had_ to correct every single thing he said. She _had_ to make it clear how much more advanced she was than everybody else in the class. Harry often wondered if she even knew she was doing these things, with the way they came so naturally to her. Maybe she thought that if she showed some kind of expertise, she would be accepted by all the lowkey blood supremacists. The school was filled with them; Harry had even caught Ron saying bigoted things. Not intentionally or cruelly. It was just what he'd been taught.

Harry rubbed his forehead.

"How's she settling in, anyways?" Blaise inquired.

"About as well as you probably think."

"Ah." Harry leaned forward and rested his forehead against the cool tabletop.

"I know I should try to talk to her. Make an effort. But she makes it so _hard_ sometimes."

"Y'know, I feel the exact same way about Malfoy." Harry rolled his head to look at Blaise, cheek still pressed around the table. Blaise had a thoughtful expression plastered across his face. "Like, I know he's actually not that bad of a kid and if someone got him to stop acting like a spoiled brat, he'd be halfway decent, but..." Harry sighed.

"They make it so hard to help them." He banged his head against the table a few times. "Really though, as fellow students, and you and Malfoy fellow purebloods, the nicest thing to do would probably be to head them off now. Give them a few years down the line and they'll be insufferable and lonely if no one makes an effort with them."

"I'll give it a shot if you give it a shot." Blaise said ominously.

"This is like a frickin' blood promise or some shit. I feel like I'm selling my soul."

"You suggested it."

"I know." He glanced over to Granger one more time; she was talking to McGonagall, stars in her eyes, excitedly pointing out her newest Transfiguration achievement. McGonagall was looking approvingly down at her, but Harry could see the expression on her table partner's face. Resentful and annoyed.

When McGonagall left, Granger turned to talk to her partner, still obviously excited, but was met with nothing but silence. Her partner, a short, dark-haired Gryffindor, folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, not meeting Granger's eyes. Her jaw was set and she was staring down at her own needle accusingly. Granger attempted to talk to her for a little while longer, before it became clear to even her that her partner wasn't interested in talking. She folded her hands in her lap and stared at her feet, small and out of place in the cheery, talkative classroom.

 _Christ, I've gotta do something._

XXXX

"Hey Granger!" Harry called down the hall. They had just been leaving Potions after another humiliating lesson. Granger had walked off alone, hugging her books to her chest, bushy hair making her stand out amongst the crowd of first years. Harry had split off from Blaise as the dark-skinned Slytherin went after Malfoy and Harry went after Granger. "Granger!" He called out again. The small girl stopped, whirling her head around, searching for the source. She finally spotted Harry behind her, and he waved as he darted through students to catch up.

"Hadrian?" She asked.

"Just call me Harry." She nodded, blinking at him owlishly.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you'd help me with the Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. I'm terrible with all the book stuff and Quirrell doesn't really help." Granger's face lit up like a Christmas tree, before she scrunched her nose.

"Are you sure you don't need help in Potions?"

"Oh, _thanks_." A look of panic crossed her face. Granger had a tendency to speak before she thought it through and this was a textbook example.

"No! No, that's not what I meant, I'm so sorry-," Harry cut her off.

"No, it's alright. I understand." Harry was abysmal at Potions and Quirrell wasn't exactly a hard grader. "It just doesn't really matter how I do in Potions, Snape'll probably fail me anyways. _Quirrell,_ on the other hand, might actually pass me." Granger nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course I'll help. When do you want to meet?"

"Does Wednesday sound good to you?" She smiled.

"Common room or library?"

"Either is fine." She considered this.

"We'll probably want to work in the library, just so we can look things up if we need to." _Damnit. Should have said common room. That way I can show people she's social and nice and they'll stop avoiding her._

Too late now.

"Okay then. Does after dinner work?" Harry asked. She nodded, bushy hair flying. "Okay then. I'll meet you there." She nodded again, eyes wide, still clutching her books to her chest. "See you later, Granger. Thanks." Harry walked down the hall to lunch. He could practically hear the poor girl hyperventilating behind him. He didn't want to think that was one of the first positive interactions she'd had with her fellow housemates, but it probably was. He cringed at the thought.

XXXX

"What's up with Cedric?" Harry asked. "I've seen him in the Hospital Wing twice now."

"Were you in the Hospital Wing?" Neville asked, alarmed. "Are you okay?" Harry shook his head.

"Nah, I just work there. Detentions. Can't serve them with Snape, can't serve them with Filch, and apparently Hagrid's detentions aren't safe enough for first years. So they stuck me with Madam Pomfrey." He explained, shoveling some food in his mouth.

"What do you do?" Ron asked, brow furrowing "Is it that bad?" Harry shrugged.

"Not really. She's nice to me. I mostly just take inventory, order new items. I help her with patients sometimes. Nothing serious, but like, I can bandage wounds. She's taught me a few things."

"Oh." Ron said. "And you don't mind?" Harry shrugged again.

"Not really. I mean, it's hard work but it's manageable."

"Healer Harry, on his way." Fred said with a grin, punching Harry in the shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes.

"If you want a cut closed or a scrape cleaned, I'm your man. Anything beyond that is out of my hands."

"That's cool." Dean said. Harry made a face.

"No, really." Neville added. "That's actually really cool and useful. You could save people's lives."

"I don't know if I have the temperament for _that_." Harry said doubtfully, tilting his head to the side. "My bedside manner _sucks_."

"Maybe some people need that. Someone to be straight with them." Seamus suggested.

"That's years away, anyways. But seriously though, I leave Pomfrey's and Sprout's everyday carrying tons of extra herbs and potions." Harry hauled his bag up from the floor. "Look! I went to give this to Pomfrey one day and she just gave it back and told me to keep it for myself. I think she's trying to convince me to stay on with her, even when my detentions are up." Harry named them as he pulled them out. "Blood Replenishing Potion, Essence of Dittany, alihotsy, ginger, Devil's Snare-," Harry pulled out a jar of it. It shied away from the light before Harry jammed it back in his bag. "-, peppermint, valerian root,-"

"Merlin, Harry. You do realize we have no idea what you're talking about?" Ron said, eyes wide. Harry sighed.

"I know. Just what it means is that I'm a walking storeroom. I think she thinks that a lot more dangerous things go on on campus than she knows about and that I'll somehow be able to help with all this. Sprout keeps telling me to make _tea_ with all of these, but she's gotta know about the powerful medicinal properties they have to. For crying out loud, who makes _tea_ with valerian root?"

"Harry."

"I know, I know. You have no idea what I'm saying." Harry rubbed his forehead glumly. "I smell like an apothecary."

"Cheer up, mate. At least you're prepared for anything." Seamus offered.

What's up with Cedric though? You guys never answered." Fred and George rolled their eyes simultaneously, leaning back on the bench.

" _Ugh._ "

"Quidditch?" Harry guessed. George leaned back towards the table, slumping over and putting his chin in his hand.

"That boy does not quit."

"Tryouts are coming up, aren't they?" Ron said. "He must be practicing."

"Dunno _why_ though. He's a shoe-in for Hufflepuff seeker. He's gonna get it." Fred said with a shrug.

"Pretty-Boy Diggory is just too uptight about all this."

"I mean, he'll make _captain_ some day. We all know it. He's one of the best players Hufflepuff has had in years." George bit into an apple.

"He needs to calm down before he hurts himself." He said, mouth full. Harry winced.

"Please chew with your mouth _shut_." George made a vague gesture. "When are tryouts, anyways?"

"Next week, I think." Ron answered. "They like to have some time to practice as a team before the first game in November." The Twins nodded.

"Tryouts for Gryffindor start out at the end of this week and run into next week. They go pretty fast, though. Oliver runs a tight ship."

"How are the Quidditch teams here?" Seamus asked. Fred make a wobbly hand motion.

"Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are pretty consistent. They're good. Gryffindor's been missing a good seeker since Charlie graduated though. Slytherin is a good team on their own, but they play dirty." Fred finished with a dark expression. "Put a lot of players in the Hospital Wing."

"As Cedric would say, it's not good sportsmanship."

"Normally, I wouldn't be so mad about this. We've taken a few cheap shots ourselves, I admit." Fred laid his hand over his heart.

"But nothing like the way they play."

"And they keep _winning_ because of it." The Twins huffed to themselves for a moment before Fred shot Harry a crooked smile. "On a similar note, we hear McGonagall wants you for seeker." Ron sucked in a breath sharply.

"Who told you that?" Harry demanded.

"McGonagall." George answered promptly.

" _Of course_." Harry narrowed his eyes.

"She wants us to talk to you about it. Convince you to ditch all the noble crap and join the Quidditch team so we can beat those slimy Slytherin bastards." George said with a grin.

"Harry?" Ron's eyes were wide.

"Did she say that explicitly?" The Twins exchanged looks.

"Not in so many words-," Fred began.

"-, but we caught her meaning."

"As a first year?" Seamus asked, equally as shocked as Ron. Fred and George nodded in unison. Seamus let out a low whistle. "That's...that's completely unheard of."

"You'd be the youngest seeker in a century." George supplied helpfully.

"Jesus Christ, George. I'm not doing it."

" _You're not doing it?_ " Ron nearly shouted. Harry shook his head.

"It's not _fair_. Not to everyone else. Not to _you_."

"To me?" The red-headed boy squeaked.

"I don't give two shits about playing Quidditch competitively. But for example, there's you and you love Quidditch and I'm sure you'd be overjoyed to play on the Gryffindor team. Am I right?"

"Well, yes-,"

"And yet, you who has a background with Quidditch, who _loves_ Quidditch, doesn't even get a chance. Not to mention the other teams who would want to put their own first years on but can't because the rules still apply to them. It's blatant favoritism."

"Can't you just do it?" George whined.

"No." Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

"You're giving up this kind of opportunity?" Neville asked.

"Yeah. I am. It's not fair. Seriously, guys. On a list of things that are not okay, this is _really_ not okay." He threw his hands into the air. "And I don't even like Quidditch that much!" Fred and George sighed.

"Little ickle firstie and you're already breaking our hearts."

"Go cry about it."

"We will, thank you very much." George pretended to wipe away tears, grabbing Fred's arm. "Come on, Fred. Let's go find Cedric. At least he actually _cares_ about Quidditch." He shot a teasing look back at Harry who rolled his eyes as they walked away, heading out to the pitch.

"You're really not going to do it?" Ron asked. "I mean, people would kill for this opportunity." Harry pushed his food around on his plate.

"No. Besides, even if I did join, I would never be allowed to play. That would be my new punishment; instead of detentions, Snape would just take that away from me and then it would be _really_ unfair to the other kids who've waited years to go out for seeker."

"You don't really think he'd do that?" Neville said. Ron rubbed his forehead.

"Yeah. He would." He said reluctantly. "He'd never let you play."

"See? I've got enough already going on anyways."

XXXX

Harry didn't think practical application was the best idea. Even though they'd supposedly been learning various spells for weeks now, they had only practiced them a few times and Quirrell had not been helpful whatsoever. Besides, Harry didn't trust that Quirrell had things under control if the first years got out of hand. And they would.

It was the nature of first years.

Today, they were supposed to face Quirrell. They had a list of spells they were learning, the Leg-Locking Curse, the Body-Binding Curse, and the Tripping Jinx primarily. However, most kids knew other spells now that weren't within the Hogwarts curriculum but still safe enough, like the Jelly-Legs Jinx and other spells. Quirrell encouraged them to make use of these.

Neville was going first, unsurprisingly. Quirrell did not seem to like him very much.

They were facing each other, Neville nearly shaking with anxiety.

"A-a-anyt-t-time you are r-r-ready, Mr. Longb-b-bottom." A ripple of laughter went through the classroom. Blaise leaned towards Harry and whispered,

"I see this ending only one way." Harry nodded grimly. Neville was his friend, but Blaise wasn't wrong.

Neville glanced back at the class, seeking out his friends. Harry shot him a thumbs up from the back of the room and saw the pudgy boy smile slightly. He turned back towards Quirrell.

" _Langlock_." Quirrell blocked it with a shield and suddenly threw out a curse of his own. Harry saw his wand moving before Neville did and shouted,

"DODGE!" Neville barely managed to spring out of the way at the last moment. A few students spun around to glare at Harry, having been hoping that Neville would fail.

" _L-locomotor mortis."_ The spell missed its target and the color was slightly off, but Harry figured Neville did well enough. Quirrell tossed out another spell, slowly. Much slower than originally. Harry narrowed his eyes. Then what was that earlier? It was a fake spar, at a much slower speed than it would normally be for the first years. First years couldn't respond that well and the entire point of this exercise was not to defeat the firsties, but to give them a practical feel for using the spells.

Quirrell took a few steps forward and Neville nearly walked backwards off the platform, catching himself at the last moment, but not before Quirrel hit him with a third spell. Neville's body locked up and he hit the ground, head smacking the tile floor hard. Harry saw it and immediately worried about concussions.

"I d-d-do b-b-believe Mr. Longb-b-bott-t-tom has b-b-been b-b-bested. 10 p-p-points for a job well d-d-done."

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" Harry shouted out from the back of the room. Quirrell spun over to look at Harry, eyes wide. Blaise hissed at Harry to shut up, but Harry was not going to shut up.

"M-m-mr. K-kasinger?"

"The way he fell! He could have a concussion. You should have known better than to hit him with a body bind, given where he was standing. You heard his head hit the floor. What kind of teacher puts a student in danger like that? I thought this was a practical application of spells, not a frickin' duel." A murmur of agreement ran through the room.

"I-i-i d-d-did not realize w-w-where Mr. Longb-b-bottom was stand-d-ding." Quirrell confessed, but Harry spotted the man giving him the evil side-eye. Quirrell quickly freed Neville from his bind. The small boy sat up, rubbing the back of his head and wincing. "I-i-i w-w-will be more c-c-careful."

"Well that's great and all, but it would have been better _before_ you started flinging spells at your students." Quirrell stared at the floor while Neville returned to his seat.

It was an awkward return to an awkward lesson after that. A girl from Slytherin, Daphne something did the best out of all of them, having the best dodging skills and a pretty fair arsenal. Malfoy did worse than he would probably admit; Ron did about as well. Hermione had some pretty advanced spells, but got hit early, letting out a loud squeak as she hit the ground. All in all, as it turned out, Neville didn't do a bad job at all. He did better than a lot of students.

Finally, it was Harry's turn. Harry figured that Quirrell had saved him for last because he was angry.

Harry climbed up onto the platform, aware that all eyes were on him.

"W-w-whenever y-you are r-ready, Mr. K-k-kasinger." Harry narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. The smell from the turban was wafting across the platform and Harry struggled not to wince at it.

Harry took a guarded stance and made sure to keep his eyes on Quirrell's wand.

" _Langlock_." He said suddenly, whipping his wand as fast as he could. Quirrell parried it, causing a bright light to appear before fading quickly. " _Petrificus totalus. Antlifors._ " Harry shot off in quick succession. " _Avifors."_ The objects on Quirrell's desk quickly turned into a flock of birds that flew towards the man, blocking his line of sight. " _Langlock-scourgify-lumos maxima!"_ Quirrell had thrown up a shield after he barely dodged the antler spell in time. The birds bounced off his shield a few times before it broke and Quirrell was vigorously cleaned, rubbing his skin raw. Harry's wand lit up just as Quirrell was finding his bearings and he fired blindly at Harry, way faster than he had with the other students.

"Shit!" Harry jumped to avoid it, and turned to fire off another spell, just in time to see a bright light headed for his face. " _PROTEGO!"_ Harry roared, just as the spell slammed into his shield. Harry watched as it cracked and fell apart and barely conjured another as Quirrell followed up with a spell that shot straight through his shield, destroying it in the process, and sent Harry flying off his feet, 4 feet in the air. He landed on his back, groaning and swearing to himself.

The entire class was out of their chairs, peering over to see if he was okay.

"Urrrghh..." He rolled over onto his side, breathing heavily.

 _What the hell was that?_

Why, on _earth_ Quirrell thought it was okay to hit a student with a spell that shattered a shield and sent him flying was beyond Harry. That was _definitely_ too much.

Once Quirrell cleared up the birds chirping and flying around the classroom, he rushed over to Harry who was slowly getting up.

"M-m-mr. K-k-kasinger, a-are y-you okay?" He asked worriedly, reaching to help Harry up. Harry waved his hand away and climbed to his feet, rubbing his back and groaning

"'M fine." He muttered.

"Mate, are you sure you're okay?" Ron asked, rushing over loop Harry's arm over his shoulder. "Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"

"Nah, I'm fine. Just _sore_."

"W-w-well, in the m-m-meantime, I'd l-l-like to cong-g-gratulate you, Mr. K-k-kasinger." Quirrell said, staring at Harry with an odd expression. "The Sh-shield Ch-charm is a second-year s-s-spell and to this day, s-s-some ad-d-dult wizards cann-n-not cast a prop-p-per one. S-s-someone's b-b-been d-d-doing their h-h-homework." Harry shrugged as he made his way back to his seat, thanking Ron for his assistance. He collapsed into his seat next to Blaise, who whispered,

"Nice job, dumbass. You provoked him."

"It's what I do best."

XXXX

"You...!" Granger poked him in the chest, hard. Harry backed up, covering his chest with his arms.

"Ow! What was that for? Jesus, Granger." She looked flustered, face red and hair wilder than normal. Her eyes were narrowed and her hands were balled into fists.

"You're not bad at Defense Against the Dark Arts! You're great at it!"

"Oh." Harry was beginning to get an idea of what this was about.

"What was all that about _needing help with your essay_ and _I don't understand spell technique_ and _Quirrell's no help_? I bet you're his favorite student!" She shouted. A few students twisted their heads to stare, confused. Harry reached out and touched Granger's arm.

"Shh!" He hissed. "Calm down."

"No! I will not calm down!" Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes. For a moment, it looked like Granger was on the verge of tears, she was so angry. She ripped his hand off her arm.

"You were just pretending to be nice to me, weren't you? So you could use me to write the stupid essay that you just didn't want to!"

 _Oh._

"What? Christ, Granger. No! Not at all!"

"Don't _lie_ to me." Her voice broke and Harry could see that she _was_ blinking back tears. "I thought you were trying to be nice. That it was Muggleborn to Muggleborn. That maybe you wanted to be friends." She sniffled. "But _no!_ You're just like the rest of them!"

"Granger-,"

" _Leading_ me _on_ just so you could get something out of the buck-toothed know-it-all!" She cried out.

"Granger, I'm not-,"

"Why did you have to be so _mean_ to me?"

"HERMIONE-," He shouted, interrupting her to try and get her attention. She was crying now, tears streaming down her face.

"Don't call me Hermione." She turned and fled, wiping tears off her face as she ducked her head so the others wouldn't see. Harry sprinted after her, but got caught in the crowd, and before he knew it, she was gone.

XXXX

It was his first race tonight, and Harry probably wasn't as pumped as he should have been.

He was excited to be here, no doubt. The team had walked him over to the makeshift locker rooms with the rest of the division 3 Novices, telling him how great he was gonna be and how his first race was gonna go. He left his school bag with them on the stands. He hadn't wanted to bring it, but someone asked why he was going out and he had to claim he was going to the library. He was more nervous than he thought he'd be for the race, but less nervous than the other firsties.

But he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened with Granger. He'd seen her in the common room, clearly on the verge of tears from earlier still. He wanted to talk to her, but was afraid that if he did, she would just get upset again. He figured she probably didn't want to cry in front of the entire house and had instead, just avoided her.

He hadn't meant any of what she said about him, but she hadn't given him time to explain. Then again, how believable was, "No, I really was just trying to become your friend"? From the way she had spoken, Granger had a lot of experience with these kinds of things and none of it had gone well.

The racers had been led outside, lined up behind Lee Jordan's announcing area. Harry was decked out in the team jersey and a pair of goggles rested on top of his head. The Twins had enchanted them to see in the dark better, and to be impervious to most damage, so even if he fell, he wouldn't risk an eye injury. Additionally, the uniform had some protection spells on it- things like cushioning charms or impervious charms so he was less likely to be impaled by a tree or to break every bone in his body when he fell. Similar charms were cast on his broom, too.

This was probably the most dangerous thing Harry had ever done.

And it was _exciting._

"You fought Quirrell today." A voice came from his side. Harry twisted to see the girl Daphne. She had white-blonde hair tied up tight and bright green eyes. She was a pretty girl, even at her age, but she had a cold way of setting her jaw. Even if Harry hadn't known she was a Slytherin already, she made it pretty obvious. She wore a uniform similar to his, except her jersey was dark blue and had what looked like a giant, flying snake on it. There were some more details, but that was the gist of it. She had a pair of goggles to match, resting on her forehead.

"I know." She said. "Not a very original mascot for a Slytherin, since an occamy is basically a glorified flying snake." Harry blinked at it a few more times and it hissed at him.

"No. I guess not."

"You fought Quirrell today."

"I am aware." He answered. "Glad you noticed my small flight." She snorted.

"You really did fly."

"It was the landing that was the hard part."

"Daphne Greengrass." She stuck out a gloved hand. Harry shook it.

"Hadrian Kasinger." He responded.

"I've heard a lot about you."

"Mostly bad, probably."

"Well, you're not _wrong._ " She said. "Not so surprised to see you here. They always know where to find the adrenaline junkies."

"You're an adrenaline junkie." He stated. She shrugged.

"I like to win. I like to win _a lot_." She raised an eyebrow. "Heard you got handpicked for the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"I said no."

"Why?" Harry shrugged.

"It wasn't fair."  
"Oh, that's cute."

"Why, you like Quidditch?" He already knew the answer to that question.

"Yes, but I'll never make the team." Harry looked her up and down, paying special attention to her broom. He didn't know much about broom types, but he knew that it was _new_.

"If you're here, that means you're good enough. Don't know why you couldn't make it next year."

"Because sexism is alive and well in Quidditch, my friend."

" _Ahh_." She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"It's stupid. The other teams aren't so bad but the Slytherin team is in the fucking Stone Age. They only let girls on the team if they absolutely need a new member, and since there are so many male pureblood scions vying for a space, I'll never make it unless five or six members take a beater to the head."

"I have some connections with the other teams." Harry said with a grin. "That might be arranged." Daphne laughed. Harry had met the beaters from the other teams; apparently there was this little beater club. Fred and George were friendly with them all, even the Slytherins. It seemed that putting their lives at such risk on the field gave them something to bond over.

"Thanks for the suggestion, but I think I'll stick to the old fashioned way."

"Which is?"

"Poison." She smirked at him.

"I don't think you're joking."

"I'm not." They stared at each other for a little bit.

"Well, good luck with that." Harry said, not sure what else he _could_ say. "How many other firsties are here?"

"Not many. They only pick the scary ones." Harry eyed Daphne carefully.

"I know."

She smiled at that.

"I'm not _really_ that scary, am I?" Daphne blinked at him.

" _No,_ you're like a giant teddy bear."

"But really though?"

"I just think you scare the shit out of most people because they see what you'll become."

"What I'll become?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Basically the same, but bigger and more powerful."

"Ahh. Makes sense. I was afraid you were going to say Voldemort or something. I'm not _that_ mean." She stared at him incredulously.

"You just described the most powerful dark lord since Grindelwald as _mean_."

"Technically, he's only the most powerful dark lord since Grindelwald in the _UK_." Harry pointed out.

"That's actually pretty sound logic." Harry shrugged, holding his hands up, palms turned to the sky.

"For all we know, there could be a dark lord rampaging East Asia or somewhere that makes Voldemort look like a five-year old throwing a temper tantrum."

"If there was, why haven't we heard of it?"

"Because wizards are weird and other countries don't like us." Daphne made a face.

"You're probably right. I can't imagine they'd want help from a country that wanted to conquer them a hundred years ago. Magic-users live a long time and they're not to keen on forgetting things like that."

" _Anyways_ , are you nervous for the race?" Daphne shrugged, but Harry noticed the way she scratched her arm suddenly.

"Nah. I know what to expect. Broom Racing is in my blood. My mother did it before me and her mother did it before her."

"That's pretty heavy." Harry commented.

"You?"

"A little. More nervous than I thought I'd be, less nervous than I probably should be." He admitted.

"You'll be good at it, I think. You're inventive." Daphne gave him a small, encouraging smile. "Good luck."

"You too." At that moment, Lee's voice roared to life.

"WELCOME TO THE FIRST _REAL_ RACE OF THE SEASON! NO OFFENSE TO ALICIA SPINNET, YOU DID FANTASTIC!" A cheer came from the crowd. "TODAY WE WELCOME THE NOVICE RACERS OF DIVISION 3. THERE ARE 22 RACERS COMPETING TODAY, FIVE OF THEM FIRST YEARS, SO GIVE A BIG, WARM WELCOME TO DAPHNE GREENGRASS OF THE SCREAMING OCCAMIES," Everyone in the crowd cheered for the first years. "PARVATI PATIL OF THE CHIMAERAS, SU LI OF THE DOXIES, SUSAN BONES OF THE BLAST-ENDED SKREWTS, AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST, HADRIAN KASINGER OF THE PERUVIAN VIPERTOOTHS!" Harry could hear Cedric whistling in the crowd. "NOW, FOR OUR OTHER RACERS..." Harry tuned out, mounting his broom like the others. No one had kicked off yet, but they were ready. "...COME ON UP, RACERS!"

"That's our cue." Daphne said. Harry hopped on his broom and followed her out to the sandpit. They hovered right before the start line

"NOW, REMEMBER, IF THE RACE LASTS MORE THAN AN HOUR, IT ENDS IN A DRAW AND NO ONE RECEIVES ANY POINTS. IF THERE IS A TIE, IT ENDS IN A DRAW AND NO ONE RECEIVES ANY POINTS. SHORT OF MAIMING AND KILLING, THERE ARE NO RULES. TRY NOT TO DIE, NEWBIES." Harry snorted. "READY? SET! GO!" And they were off.

Harry shot forward as fast as he could. He had his wand in his hand, but he was more concerned with not falling behind. He plastered himself against his broomstick, before waving his wand at the trees in front of him, whispering,

" _Avifors_." Every single leaf on the first two trees turned into a little yellow bird. They chirped cheerily as they flew towards the oncoming racers.

There were several screams as they flew straight into the mass of birds. Kids were struggling to hang onto their brooms in the flock. Harry kept his mouth shut and his head down.

The racers finally broke through the flock, bursting out towards the trees. They were covered with yellow feathers, but Harry didn't care. It was so surreal, flying at this kind of speed, weaving between trees and stray birds. It was like tunnel vision when he was going this fast; he only had time to see where he wanted to be.

Which is why he was surprised when a burly second year rammed him in the side. Harry skidded towards the trees, but he pulled away at the last second. He managed to save himself from being impaled on a large, sharp branch, but he lost his lead to the second year, who twisted his head around to give him the middle finger and stick his tongue out at him.

" _Antlifors_." Harry hissed and the spell struck his target squarely in the shoulder. The boy let out an

" _Eeek!"_ As he grew antlers from the top of his head. He slowed down a bit and Harry shot forward, hitting him in the side, before climbing up into the sky. He cast a body bind back at the second year who was gaining fast on him and the boy yelled as his broom went out of control and he crashed into a few racers behind him.

There were still quite a few racers in front of Harry; he'd say about five or six. Daphne was among them, overtaking most of the other racers on her fancy broom. She was fast and small and that gave her a huge advantage over the larger students. Only a few spells were flying, but she could easily dodge the ones that were aimed at her.

Harry leaned forward on his broom, locking his thighs around it tightly and urging it to go faster. He threw a Slug Vomiting Hex at one of the boys in front of him, right before he rounded the corner. He ducked to the side and flew above the group, watching in satisfaction as the boy spewed slugs at another racer. They rounded the corner, all curving around the giant tree in the middle. The boy vomited another slug onto the other racer, who screamed,

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" And pushed him into the tree. Harry watched the boy backflip on his broom, towards the racers behind him, spewing slugs the entire way. He snickered when he heard the screams.

Glancing down, he spotted Daphne pulling ahead. He knew she was fast, but _damn_. Daphne would probably be one of his biggest opponents in the races to come. She was skilled and had something to prove. That did not fare well for Harry.

Plus she was _scary_.

Harry waited until they crossed the sandpit before he divebombed Daphne, ramming into her from above as fast as he could. She screamed as she rushed towards the ground, regaining control only a few feet from the sandpit. She screeched to a halt so hard that sand flew up and hit Harry in the neck. He tried to shoot forward, but she grabbed him by the end of the broom and yanked him back, hissing,

"If that's how it's gonna _be_."

 _What the fuck have I done?_

Harry shoved his wand in her face.

" _Lumos maxima!"_ She yelled as she was blinded and Harry took the opportunity to get the hell out of there. "DON'T THINK I'M GONNA GO EASY ON YOU!" She screamed as Harry raced back into the cover of the trees, pulling the same trick as before and turning the leaves into birds as soon as he passed them.

There were still quite a few people in front of Harry, but he knew that Daphne would be back with a vengeance. In the time Harry had spent in the sandpit, three people had pulled ahead. He ran through a mental list of spells that Fred and George had taught him.

" _Obscuro_." A blindfold appeared on the face of the racer in front of him, and rather than simply take it off, the racer panicked and spun out of control, taking out a second racer near her as they both crashed into a tree. He was gaining on the next person, when all of a sudden, they spun around on their broom and shot a jet of hot air into his face. He fell back, barely managing to dodge a snake that was thrown at him from the front of the line, when he got hit in the side by what he could only assume was a tickling curse.

"JESUS!" He slowed down as to avoid spinning out of control. " _FINITE!"_ The tickling stopped, but he lost a lot of ground.

 _OOF_

Harry tried to suck in a breath desperately, all the wind knocked out of him. He saw stars for a moment as he hit a tree, barely able to comprehend what had happened, until he saw Daphne racing ahead of him, grinning and sending a jet of fire into the air in celebration. He got his bearings straight and raced after her, ignoring the nettles he was covered with.

He watched from behind as the flyers in front of him picked each other off. He passed a racer who was dancing uncontrollably on his broom and another who couldn't stop sneezing. As soon as he was close enough, he turned the leaves by the racers ahead of him into birds, slowing quite a few racers down. He dropped below the flock and came up ahead of a few racers, right before they passed the sandpit to begin their third lap.

On the third lap, the fatigue was much more obvious in a lot of racers; most of them were young, too. Harry, however, could only feel the adrenaline in his veins. He felt jittery, his heart pounding in his chest. He was very aware of how hot he was against the cool night breeze. It was only Daphne and a few others left to take out

And _Jesus_ , Daphne looked _pissed_. She was covered in feathers, sand, and nettles and looked about ready to murder someone. She was ramming her fellow racers left and right, trying to pull ahead. By the time they neared the last stretch, some pretty nasty spells were flying. Harry cast a few of his own, eliminating all but one last racer. It was close, with only the three of them left. The sandpit was in sight and Harry brought out the birds one more time. The other two racers screamed as they once again suffered through the flock of birds and Harry, who was prepared, moved ahead of the racers. He was _so_ close to the sandpit, about to win his _first race_ , he was so excited to be the cause of the first points on the board.

Right before he was about to cross the finish line, he heard a garbled scream and spun around to see a bloodstained flock of birds. As they cleared, he watched in horror as Daphne began to plummet from a tree at the edge of the sandpit, impaled through the side with a branch, blood spraying from various injuries as she fell. He spun around as fast as he could, going straight into a nosedive, trying to reach Daphne.

He caught her by the arm, right before she hit the ground, causing her to scream in pain. It nearly yanked him off his broom, but he wrapped his body around it and gently lowered her to the ground, where he jumped off beside her. He looked up to see people climbing out of the stands, running towards Daphne, looks of horror and shock on their faces. He heard Fred or George scream,

"GET HIS BAG, GET HIS BAG!" Harry crouched down besides Daphne, who was blinking up at him, confused.

"W-what?" She asked. She hadn't quite realized what happened yet.

"Shh." He said. "I'm gonna pull out the branch, okay?"

"Sounds good to me." He wrapped both hands around the branch, braced himself, and pulled it out, as close to the exact angle that it went in as as he could get it. Daphne cried out in pain as he did so. He tossed the branch to the side and lifted her shirt to look at the wound, pulling out the bits of fabric embedded in it.

"You're gonna be fine, Daphne." He promised her.

"I only kind of believe you." She huffed out. He glanced down at the rest of her body, which was covered in abrasions and scrapes. There was one particularly deep cut on her thigh, but he knew it hadn't hit the artery or else she would be bleeding to death already. There was also what looked like a deep cut on her head and Harry was worried about the blood and a concussion. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't as deep as it looked, it was just bleeding more, which wasn't good either. He cast a quick cleaning spell on the deepest wounds he could find. A crowd was beginning to form around them, but the Vipertooths burst through, shouting,

"GIVE THEM SPACE!" Fred and George crouched on either side of Harry.

"Figured you needed this." Fred said, worriedly chewing on his lip.

"She's gonna be okay, right?"

"She'll be just fine." Harry said. "Her shoulder is probably dislocated, but hey, it's not bleeding so that's good. Can you pull a few things out of the bag for me?"

"Sure, what do you-," Daphne peered down at her stomach, and Harry glanced up at the same time a look of panic crossed her face.

"Oh my-,"

"Daphne, don't-,"

"OH MY GOD-," She tried to sit up, reaching for her stomach and the giant gaping hole that was leaking blood.

"DAPHNE-,"

"MERLIN, I DON'T WANT TO DIE-," She cried out, hysterical as Harry tried to push her back down. She howled in pain at her movement, but clawed at her stomach and leg, panicked. She spotted the massive branch that had been sticking out of her laying on the ground, covered in blood and started screaming.

"Hold her down." He told the Twins, and they did, as she thrashed. She let out blood-curdling screams. Cedric took the Twins' place, a serious look on his face.

"What do you need?"

"Ginger and Devil's Snare. The Devil's Snare is in a jar." Cedric searched through and pulled out them both. "Look for a silver potion next and two little vials of liquid." Harry took the ginger from him, broke off a tiny bit and shoved it into Daphne's mouth, before forcibly closing it. "Chew it and swallow it." He ordered. She stared up at him with wide, panicked eyes, before chewing it slowly and swallowing it. "Cho, lift her feet up."

"To where?"

"Just hold them up." He said. "Above her heart." Cho obeyed. Harry _wanted_ to use the Essence of Dittany, but he was pretty sure she had some massive internal organ injuries and didn't want to close the wound before taking her to Madam Pomfrey. " _Ferrula_." Bandages appeared over her stomach wound, binding it comfortably.

"Mate, what'd you do to her? She seems a lot calmer now."

"The ginger. It'll make her more comfortable." He reached for the jar of Devil's Snare, but paused. "Daphne, don't look. It'll just freak you out. Fred, George, make sure of it, okay?" Daphne and the Twins nodded but Harry didn't trust Daphne wouldn't look. She stared straight up at the Twins while they told her jokes, trying to make her feel better.

Harry uncapped the Devil's Snare and dumped it on her stomach. It was a little bit of a struggle to get it to do what he wanted, but soon enough, it wrapped around her wound, putting pressure on it, but nothing dangerous.

"That's...that's a really good idea." Cedric whispered. "I never would have thought of that." Harry shrugged. He checked again to make sure the wound on her thigh was clean, before pulling out the Essence of Dittany and Murtlap Essence

"I need peppermint." He told Cedric. He searched through Harry's bag once again, pulling out a little container of it. "Feed her a few leaves." Cedric complied, before leaning back to ask Harry,

"What's the peppermint for?"

"To control unwanted side effects. Keep anything too violent from happening, consider I'm about to shove a few potions down her throat." Harry poured a little bit of the Murtlap Essence into the leg wound, reaching down and prying the skin with his finger. Daphne sucked in a breath. "You're gonna be find, Daphne. I'm just closing the wound on your leg." He followed up with Essence of Dittany to grow the skin back. "Pull the salve out of my bag." Cedric did so. "Rub it wherever you see injuries, especially the wound on her head." It was Star-Grass salve. It could be pretty powerful, but Madam Pomfrey always told him to use salves primarily for smaller injuries and only ever use it on a big injury in conjunction with other potions or spells. "Hey Daphne; you may even walk out of this without any scars."

"That sounds nice."

"Pull out the two other potions marked with w's." Cedric did so, momentarily pausing from his salving duties. "Fred, George, give all three of these to her, and start with the silver one." George saluted and they started to sit Daphne up a little. "Wait!" Harry realized, and they paused. "Anyone got a coat?" Someone threw a jacket at his head. He laid it over the Devil's Snare on Daphne's stomach before she saw it and panicked. "Continue." They fed her the Blood-Replenishing Potion, the Wiggenweld Potion to help heal her wounds, and a Wideeye Potion to keep her awake, in case she did have a concussion.

Harry moved over to wear Fred and George were, by Daphne's head. He smiled down at her while she was taking the Potions. She smiled back, causing a little bit of the potion to leak out the corners of her mouth.

He looked carefully down at her head wound. He put on a little Murtlap Essence, followed up by Essence of Dittany to close her head wound. Thank God for the what? 10 detentions he'd served with Madam Pomfrey? It was a godsend that he'd spent so much time in the Hospital Wing, around Quidditch and flying injuries. Thank God for detention.

Thank God for _Snape_.

 _No, that's going too far._

" _Ferrula_." He wrapped the bandages around her forehead.

"I'm not gonna die, right?" Daphne asked him, once she was done drinking the potions.

"Nah; you're barely even bleeding anymore." Harry glanced up. "Now for the fun part. Who wants to take her to the Hospital Wing? Keep in mind, we need to keep her legs above her heart the entire time." Also, thank God for Muggle first aid classes.

Unsurprisingly, Cedric volunteered. Together, Cedric and Harry carried Daphne up to the Hospital Wing. Cedric did the bulk of the carrying and Harry Held onto her legs, keeping them above her head.

There was no one _in_ the Hospital Wing, since it was about 11:30 now, but Pomfrey's quarters were connected to the Wing. Cedric laid Daphne in a bed and propped her feet up with pillows while Harry went to bang on Pomfrey's door.

Eventually, the healer shuffled out, yawning. She was wearing bunny slippers.

"Harry?" She asked. "What are you doing here?"

"We have a patient for you." Madam Pomfrey spotted Daphne over her shoulder. The Slytherin waved at her, as did Cedric, who was sitting with Daphne. Pomfrey made a beeline for her, eyes wide.

"She had a major thigh wound, head wound, and abdominal wound. Her shoulder is probably dislocated too. She was impaled by a tree branch. I closed the head wound and thigh wound and gave her a Blood-Replenishing Potion, a Wiggenweld Potion, and a Wideeye Potion because I think she has a concussion too, she's taken peppermint and ginger and I used Murtlap Essence and Essence of Dittany on her head wound and thigh wound but she's still bleeding internally-," Madam Pomfrey lifted the jacket on Daphne's stomach, spotted the Devil's Snare, and lowered it.

"That was a good idea." She said approvingly. "Did you clean the wound?"

"Yes, but I wasn't sure what to do about the internal bleeding, so I just elevated her feet, slowed the external bleeding, and brought her to you. She's probably going to need a Calming Draught." Pomfrey nodded.

"Mr. Diggory, you may go to bed. Ms. Greengrass is going to be absolutely fine." She promised the Hufflepuff. "Harry, do you mind staying just a bit longer?"

"Not at all." Cedric squeezed Daphne's hand, nodding at her. He touched Harry's shoulder before he left.

"You gonna be alright here?" Harry nodded.

"Also, don't worry about getting into trouble." Harry said. He didn't think Madam Pomfrey would say anything. She normally didn't, unless she absolutely had to. As long as Daphne was going to be okay, she wouldn't meddle in the affairs of the students. Cedric clapped him on the shoulder and left.

"That's a very interesting shirt you're wearing." Madam Pomfrey said innocently. Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm glad to see you involved in other things."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

XXXX

I wasn't actually planning on including Daphne at first, but then I was like "Well, there have to be _some_ other first years competing." And then, "Why not a Slytherin? The Vipertooths are all Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws. Where are all my Slytherin racers at?" So now we've got Daphne. Who is fun and scary and will be giving Harry a run for his money.

Also, they must really hate Harry for his stupid bird trick that he keeps spamming.

I'm quite happy with Harry's first race. He didn't win, but I think saving Daphne's life is a fair trade off. Not to mention, I never planned to have him win his first race anyways. The races will get more extreme as he moves up. I don't think Harry'll be in the Expert races for a few years, but things are gonna be _insane_ when he is. Also; Broom Racing stops for no one and the Triwizard Tournament is but a flimsy obstacle. As is major stomach wounds for Daphne. She'll be up in no time.

I didn't have Harry do a lot of actual healing magic because I didn't think that was very realistic. Of course, the whole thing with the potions in that was very much pushing it, but I felt that someone with experience doing these things and with Muggle first aid would have an idea about what to do. And anyone can use potions and salves. And hey, we don't read Harry Potter for perfect realism, do we?

Finally, Hermione. Oh, Hermione. I never really felt like we saw the extent of her isolation, so I wanted to make a big point about that. Like, we know that Hermione has been isolated all her life, even in Muggle school. And part of her not being accepted at Hogwarts is because she is Muggleborn too; like in the books, I often noticed people saying vaguely blood supremacist things, even Ron. Not on purpose, not cruelly, but that sort of underlying attitude was always there and I think that would have always given Hermione much more trouble than was made apparent.

Also; sexism. That's a thing. Something I wanted to include in Quidditch, and not so obviously for Harry. Like everyone thinks he's a Muggleborn too but people don't give him extra shit because 1) he is a little bit scary to other firsties and 2) sexism is still alive and well. Cho is a great Quidditch player and mourns Cedric's death badly and suddenly she's a whiny bitch. Harry is a great Quidditch player and mourns Cedric's death badly and he's the tragic hero, struggling to get along. I've even got a Cho backstory I wanna talk about.

Anyways, next chapter should hopefully be along sometime. Don't expect it for _at least_ a few days though. I didn't think I was gonna get this one out so quickly, but I really cranked it out.

As always, leave a review! A comment, constructive criticism, anything! I love you guys and I love hearing anything you have to say about me or my work.

See you later!


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys! Sorry it took so long for me to get back to you. I had a few projects I needed to work on, _still_ need to work on. But I figured I'd finish this up real fast and post it. It's a big one, at least. 11,000 words without my author's notes.

In response to some questions, Harry will not be learning his identity as Harry Potter for a while. Years, definitely. They'll find out sometime after third year. The reason no one recognizes him is because an eleven year old can't possibly look that much like their father. I figured a malnourished little kid would look very little like the James Potter they knew and loved, even if he _did_ share remarkable features. My explanation is that in the series, the reason everyone saw James Potter in Harry was because they were looking for it. From the beginning, they knew exactly who he was and exactly who his parents were, so obviously, they saw what they normally wouldn't have.

The reason that the school doesn't have him on record as Harry Potter instead of Hadrian Kasinger is his mother's protection. He may not be the Boy-Who-Lived, but she still died for him. It protects him from prying eyes too. From _all_ prying eyes. If his legal name was still Harry Potter, then no biggie. But it isn't. So it shows as Hadrian Kasinger.

Of course, Sirius will recognize him somewhat, but after a twelve year stint in Azkaban, he's not going to be so perceptive or able to formulate his thoughts into a coherent sentence. Make no mistake; he will be hunting for his godson. But he's gonna have a rough time for a while. I figure the Order of the Phoenix and all them will learn Harry's real identity at around fifth year. Harry might fight out himself sooner, but not until third year or after.

Also, Harry's opinion of nobles and blood supremacy is gonna become real clear real quick as time goes on. Probably most substantially in his second year.

Anywho, enjoy!

XXXX

Harry was being regarded with a new kind of respect.

After quite publicly saving Daphne's life, even those racers who didn't like him very much were treating him well. He'd already had tons of people approach him, complimenting him or thanking him for what he did. Any face that he'd lost with the slug incident had been recovered. It made Harry scowl. He hadn't saved Daphne for attention. He'd done it for his friend.

Speaking of Daphne, she upset the status flow significantly by coming up to the Gryffindor table a day and a half after the incident itself.

"Kasinger!" She called out. The House of the Brave was glaring at her upon arrival, uncomfortable with the Slytherin girl entering their perceived territory. Even Ron stopped eating when she came by, an incredible feat. He blinked at Harry, mouth full. His eyes flicked back and forth from Daphne to Harry, trying and failing at subtlety.

"Hey Daphne." Harry greeted her, throwing one leg over the bench and turning to face her.

"Ooh, pretty girl." Fred commented.

"I already know without you telling me that." Daphne sniffed. Harry snorted. "And since when did I give you permission to use my first name?" Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. Just figured we were on a first name basis." Harry hadn't even realized he was calling her Daphne; he'd simply skipped over the first phases of formality. "I can call you Greengrass if you like."

"Call me whatever you like, Kasinger. That's not why I'm here."

"Oh yeah. Are you alright?" Harry inquired. When he'd left her in the Hospital Wing, she had been fast asleep, but in good shape. He hadn't gotten another chance to talk to her but he knew she was in good hands with Madam Pomfrey and would be on her feet in no time. Daphne rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine. You saw to that."

"What's going o-," Ron began but the Twins silenced him quickly. Harry glanced over, before turning back to the blonde girl in front of him. She was wearing a little green ribbon in her hair today, but nothing about that softened her appearance.

"We need to talk about what you did." She said, clearly uncomfortable. She was like a cat raising its hackles. Daphne wouldn't quite meet Harry's eyes. Instead, they jumped from Gryffindor to Gryffindor. She was aware how lost she was among the sea of red and gold. Harry got it; being friends on the track was one thing, but it was entirely different to walk the halls together while surrounded by such an oppressive culture.

At least she was trying. It was more than Harry could say for most students.

"It was no problem, Daphne. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Don't try to act humble." Daphne responded sharply. "It wasn't 'no big deal'. Come find me later and we'll talk." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared Harry down. "Understand me, Kasinger?" Harry blinked.

"Yeah. And you can call me Hadrian, you know. Or, actually, you can call me Harry because people only call me Hadrian when I'm in trouble."

"You're always in trouble. And Hadrian's a pretty name."

"Thanks?" Daphne raised an eyebrow at him, before she spun on her heel and left, hair flying behind her. "I'll see you later?" He called after her questioningly. He turned back to his table. "That was one of the strangest interactions of my life."

"Aw, I think she likes you!" Fred exclaimed.

"In the same way a cat likes a mouse, of course." George added.

"Fun to play with, fun to eat." Harry rolled his eyes at the two of them.

"Who was that?" Dean asked, confused.

"A bloody Slytherin, that's who!" Seamus exclaimed. He eyed Harry. "What're you doing hanging around with a Slytherin?"

"I hang around with Blaise." Harry pointed out.

"Let me rephrase; what're you doing with a Slytherin like her?"

"I don't know what you mean." Harry said frankly.

"The Greengrasses are like, the purest of the purebloods." Ron explained. "At least the Zabinis have always been solidly neutral. Greengrass is as dark as they come." Harry peered over at the Slytherin table, trying to spot her.

"Huh. Bet she's got a lot of nasty curses she could teach me."

"Don't joke about this, mate. This is serious."

"I completely fail to understand what any of you mean by light and dark wizards." Harry said. Ron stared at him.

"She's Dark! They use Dark magic!"

"Like what?"

"Dark spells!"

"Like what?" Harry repeated. Ron's face was turning red in frustration. Seamus was at a similar loss to words, while Dean had leaned in slightly, curious. Light wizards versus Dark wizards was something often alluded to at Hogwarts, but never outright explained. Where did Light end and Dark begin, was what Harry wanted to know.

"They hurt people." Neville said quietly, and a poignant silence fell over the table. "Spells intended to hurt and kill. Not like Leg-Locking or the Body Bind. Things intended to cause pain. Like the Cruciatus Curse. Like the Killing Curse. It goes beyond just casting a few spells too. It's people who believe in killing for their beliefs."

"Neville, there is a word for what you're talking about." Harry said firmly. "And it's called evil. And it can be used for Light wizards as often as Dark wizards."

"You don't understand, Harry." Neville responded. There was no anger in his voice. Just strong belief.

"Yes, I do."

"You're parents aren't dead because of it." Harry could hear Neville getting upset.

"Maybe not, but don't forget the hundreds of Muggle children orphaned by Voldemort too." The dark-haired boy blinked, surprised. "And mine didn't even have to be killed by a famous wizards to die." Neville started.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-,"

"No, you kind of did. And that's fine. But you have these firm ideas of what's Light and what's Dark. You're telling me Light wizards aren't prejudiced too? You're telling me Daphne Greengrass is evil? You're telling me she's killed someone?"

"Well, no but her family-,"

"She is not her family. Neville, you will live in the shadow of your parents for the rest of your life through no fault of your own and you can't tell me how important it is people realize that children are not their parents? You're living in your parents' shadow and she's living in that of her's." Silence settled over the group.

"That was mean, Harry." Neville said in a tearful voice.

"I didn't say it to hurt you. I said it because it was true." Harry responded. They sat quietly for a few moments.

"Whoa, kiddies. It's a bit too early in the day for deep, moral discussions." Fred said.

"How about we give it another try this afternoon?" George suggested.

"What can I say? I was born with the heart of a philosopher." The Twins snorted. Harry wasn't even close with Daphne. They had just met, though saving her life and sharing a secret did put them in substantially closer standing. It was simply the principle of it.

Though, he understood now why many people thought Gryffindors were so arrogant; it was because they liked to view themselves as the good guys because of their traditionally Light history. Nevermind that the Light wizards could be just as bigoted as the Dark wizards.

"Harry, I didn't mean to say that about your parents." Harry glanced over at the trembling, pudgy boy. His eyes were round like frisbees, hands folded in his lap timidly. "I didn't know your parents were dead." Harry shrugged.

"It's alright. Well, and I guess I don't _technically_ know if they're dead, but they might as well be. I hope they are."

"What do you mean?" George asked. Harry shrugged again, sensing the nervousness at the table.

"I was found, all alone. So they don't actually know what happened to my parents but since they never came to claim me or went searching for me it's safe to assume that they're out of the picture forever, dead or otherwise."

"That sounds...hard." Dean said.

"Eh, not really. As it turns out, adults only have a finite amount of pity for orphans. When that runs out, you learn to move on real fast." Ron's brow furrowed.

"A finite amount of pity?" He asked. Harry nodded.

"People aren't as sympathetic as they want you to think. They get sick of the dead parent spiel."

"That's horrible!" Neville was appalled at this revelation. As the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry imagined that he would have a never-ending flow of sympathy. Sure, it wasn't genuine, but no adult wanted to be the one to snub the Boy-Who-Lived. Kids were another matter, though.

"It's just the way adults are."

"You don't hold very much respect for grown-ups, do you?" Dean asked curiously. Fred and George clapped Harry on the shoulders.

"Thank Merlin he doesn't-,"

"-, or we'd be missing one very fine troublemaker."

"You guys do realize I have yet to actually prank anyone?" Harry pointed out.

"I'll bet they'll be fixing that." Seamus said, snorting into his glass of pumpkin juice. The Twins exchanged grins.

XXXX

Harry was glad to be spending more time in the Hospital Wing. While he'd been busy with Broom Racing preparation, there'd been a bit of a lull in his detentions, but he'd sought to rectify that immediately. Working in the Hospital Wing was hard; there were always sheets to wash, potions to organize, inventory to take, stock to order, wounds to bandage, records to keep.

But he enjoyed it. He liked helping out, even when he was sweeping the floor. He liked to work by the windows and open the curtains so the sunlight could filter in. There was no lack of natural lights in the infirmary. Some days, it was so bright already that there was no need to turn on the lights.

Harry was doing his daily sweep around the Hospital Wing when Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, hands on her hips. He paused to look at her.

"Yes?" She rolled her eyes.

"Put down the broom, Mr. Kasinger. There are far more important things that you could be doing."

"But I always sweep the fl-," Pomfrey cast a cleaning charm with a flick of her wand, cleaning the floors instantly. Harry was surprised. He had suggested that himself at the beginning, but Madam Pomfrey had claimed she wanted him to learn the value of labor. She beckoned him over. He rested the broom against the wall and followed her into her office.

Her desk was cluttered with papers, but it was nothing compared to the filing cabinets upon filing cabinets filling the room. Madam Pomfrey recorded every single student who came into the Hospital Wing, something few students and even teachers new. Medical records were incredibly important and incredibly private.

"While I do appreciate having you around to take care of the upkeep of the Wing, I don't think it should be your primary focus." She levelled him with a stare and he blinked back, confused.

"What would you like me to do?"

"I'd like to teach you first aid. Wizard and Muggle." Madam Pomfrey said.

"I already know Muggle first aid." Or at least, some of it. Some had been taught at school, some he'd just picked up on his own. They had a few little TVs at the orphanage and the only thing anyone could agree on were either cop shows or medical shows. Obviously, they weren't entirely accurate, but Harry was confident that he knew more than regular wizarding children.

"I know, but I want to teach you a little bit beyond what is appropriate for your age group. Are you okay with that?" Her mouth was a serious, grim line.

"Yeah? Sure?"

"You did a good job with Daphne, Mr. Kasinger. And I'm sure everyone involved appreciates your critical thinking and creativity. But I believe you would benefit from formal training." Harry figured he would too. "By no means is this an invitation to use the skills I would like to teach you; as always, bring them to me first, except in the case that they might die before they reach me."

"You just want me to know them?" Harry asked, bemused. "But not to use them unless absolutely necessary?"

"You're too young to use them." Harry opened his mouth, a sharp response on his tongue, but Madam Pomfrey beat him to the punch. "I don't mean to make your age an obstacle; I say this because at your age, your magical core is too unstable to fully utilize healing magic in a safe and beneficial capacity."

" _Oh_."

"Yeah, _oh_." She responded, crossing her arms over her uniform, though a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "When you're older, I'll teach you, but for now, stick to the basics."

"Why are you doing this for me?" Harry asked, peering up curiously at the matron. "I mean, you must have tons of students in here for detention." She patted his hair.

"None quite as often as you." Harry snorted.

"But really."

"Because you show potential and interest. Mr. Kasinger, have you thought of a future as a Healer?"

 _Hah! Me? Thinking of the future?_

 _That would almost be_ productive _. Can't have that._

"No." Harry said. A look of disappointment flitted across her face and he quickly rectified his statement. "No, I mean I haven't really thought about my future at all. Not that I wouldn't look into it."

"Well, I don't suppose anyone's really talked to you about wizarding careers yet." Madam Pomfrey said thoughtfully. "It's the most common oversight with Muggleborn students. Go talk to Professor McGonagall about it; I'm sure she'd be more than happy to talk to you and tell you your options. What I want to talk about is you becoming a Healer."

"Like a doctor?" Harry asked. Pomfrey nodded.

"That is their Muggle counterpart, yes. You have the skill for it, certainly. I could teach you what I know and then get a Healer friend of mine to teach you the rest." Harry frowned.

"Why can't you just teach me everything?" Pomfrey shook her head and gave him a small, sad smile.

"I'm not a Healer. I'm a nurse."

"You seem to know just as much." Harry said.

"It seems so, up to a certain point. But once more complicated magical ailments and injuries appear, I am very limited in what I can do."

"Why can't I just become a nurse?" Pomfrey shook her head.

"Nurses are incredibly skilled and intelligent and it is, in my opinion, one of the hardest professions. But I believe you have the opportunity and the skill to become more. It would be a waste of your talent."

"I don't know about that." Harry said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Pomfrey shot him a steely look.

"Many students, especially Muggleborns, have a tendency to settle. They don't have teachers and parents to push them into the magical world, push them towards a challenging career the same way that purebloods and half-bloods often do. I have seen massively skilled students settle for a miserable Ministry job pushing papers simply because no one told them to search for more. You have potential, Mr. Kasinger. Do not waste it."

"I don't even know if I want to be a Healer." Harry said. Pomfrey touched his shoulder lightly.

"And that's okay. But keep in mind what I have told you. I am proud of you, Mr. Kasinger." Pomfrey forced Harry to meet her eyes. "Whatever you choose to do, I am proud that a student of mine had the quick thinking and the bravery to save a life like that."

 _It all comes back to bravery, doesn't it?_

XXXX

"Daphne!" Harry called out as they left class. He had waited until they shared a class with the Slytherins to grab her, as opposed to trying to track her down around such a large castle. Maybe it wouldn't have been so hard, except the portraits and the ghosts were a pain in the ass. They never quite knew where they were going.

The blonde girl whirled around to see him, before barging her way through the sea of students and grabbing Harry's arm to pull him down the hall. She pulled him into a little alcove, out of sight, and shoved him against the wall.

"Ow." He said tonelessly. "What was that for?"

"You." She hissed. "And all your humble, noble, Gryffindor bullshit." Harry blinked.

"What?"

"What do you want from me?" She demanded, green eyes narrowed to slits.

"Nothing!" He stared at the girl incredulously. "Why would I want anything from you?"

"You don't understand because you're not a pureblood-," Harry felt the slight annoyance give way to a hint of anger. "-, but I owe you now. For saving my life. It's called a Life Debt. It's the oldest of magics. You saved my life and that created a magically binding contract. I owe you a debt. And a big one."

"No you don't." Harry said with a frown.

"Yeah, I do." Daphne was frustrated. "This isn't some weird pureblood honor thing. It is a magically binding contract we have both entered into. You can order me to do anything and I must do it, even if it is against my will, if you invoke the debt. Do you understand me now?"

Harry could see how that would cause a problem.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it? Can't I just release you from it?"

"No. Not until the debt has been paid." She bit her lip. "I need you to resolve it before I have to tell my parents." Oh shit. Harry hadn't even thought of that. He didn't know a lot about the Greengrasses, but he knew that they were a powerful family that would not take kindly to having their daughter forced to pay a debt of his choosing. He was beginning to understand why this was a big deal.

"Do you want me to just order you to do something stupid?" Harry asked. "That won't affect you?"

"No. It needs to be equivalent and it needs to be something I wouldn't normally do." Daphne responded, before eyeing him carefully. "I don't think you're understanding this whole Life Debt thing."

"Well, I'm sorry." Harry said sourly. "I've never done this before."

"It's not that I'm not thankful you saved my life, Kasinger. I am. But this complicates things and you are the only one who can take care of it." She glared at him. "Like, now."

"Hang on there, Frosty. Lemme think." She tapped her foot impatiently, arms crossed over her chest.

"Think faster."

Harry could always ask for knowledge. Maybe some help with what he and Blaise were looking into with the Cerberus. Ask her questions about things her family would normally never reveal.

Except Harry actually wanted to keep her as a friend and he figured that if he told her about what he and Blaise were looking into, she would want to be a part of it anyways. She seemed curious. So that wouldn't fulfill the terms of the Life Debt.

He scrunched up his nose, thinking. It was hard, thinking of something equivalent to a life.

"How about you never use the word mudblood or other bigoted terms that carry inherently negative connotations again? Like half-breed or stuff like that?"

"What?" Harry shrugged.

"That's my offer. You stop using supremacist speech for the rest of your life to fulfill the debt. Except in the case of being informative."

"Like what?" Daphne demanded.

"Like if someone asked you specifically what a negative term for Muggleborns was and you told them that the negative term was mudblood." Harry gestured vaguely with his hands. "You catch my meaning?"

"Yes but-,"

"You don't like it?" Harry arched an eyebrow at her quizzically, and Daphne frowned.

"You're a mudblood, aren't you?"

"Yes. You didn't know?" Daphne shook her head.

"I mean, I figured you were a half-blood or something. Kasinger is misleading. It sounds like an old family name or something. Thought you were just German. The rumors were so impressed with you that they conveniently forgot to mention you were Muggleborn."

"It was an old family name, once. It's just not mine." Daphne gave him a curious look but didn't ask. "Though, it's good to know that people only like me when they can ignore my blood status." He shrugged. "It shouldn't be hard for you to fulfill the Life Debt. Just stop saying mudblood."

"What about all the other Slytherins? They'll know something's changed." Harry threw his hands up.

"I don't know! Make something up! I can't be doing all the work here. Tell them that your mom said that a lady doesn't use vulgar language or some shit like that." Harry remembered the caretakers at the orphanage; he'd heard the same spiel from them a million times. _A gentleman doesn't take the Lord's name in vain. A lady doesn't swear. Respectable young men and women don't say things like that, no matter what they think._

Daphne considered this.

"I could say she doesn't want me eliminating potentially powerful allies." She murmured. Harry stared at her.

"How is that a normal response?" She gave him a shit-eating grin.

"You wouldn't have liked Slytherin."

"Good, 'cause Slytherin wouldn't have liked me." She slapped him on the arm.

"I think you're kind of alright." He snorted.

"Oh thanks." He carded a hand through his hair. "Can you do that?" She mulled it over for a moment, before sighing and nodding.

"Yeah, I can. I won't use blood supremacist language anymore." She promised. Harry felt a sudden wind ruffle his hair and smelled magic in the air. It crackled slightly and smelled like ozone, but it was gone as soon as it arrived.

"What the hell was that?"

"My promise fulfills the Life Debt." She explained. "You can't ask anything more of me."

"Wait, so you can't say mudblood anymore?" Harry asked.

"Even if I tried, I would be compelled not to." Harry blinked, suddenly aware of how much power Life Debts involved.

"That's..."

"What you asked." Daphne finished firmly. "And as far as Life Debts go, you let me off leniently."

"Daphne, still..."

"You could have asked for much more, Kasinger. Let's leave it at that."

"Didn't I tell you to call me Harry?"

"Kasinger, calling you Harry would be like you calling me Phne." She pointed out, arms still crossed over her chest. Harry winced.

"It's not that bad." He protested weakly.

"You've got a good name. I don't know why you want to be called anything else." Harry shrugged.

"Everyone calls me Harry. They just do. Dunno why. Can't remember the last time someone used my full name after I told them they could call me Harry."

"Then let me be the first, Hadrian." He sighed. "I have to go. I'll see you at the track."

Harry patted her shoulder patronizingly as she left.

"Stay frosty." He offered. She rolled her eyes at him.

XXXX

Harry adjusted his goggles on his forehead. He was once again lined up behind Lee Jordan's glass box with the rest of the d3 novice flyers. It had been hardly two days before the second race was already upon them.

It shouldn't have surprised Harry that much. After all, they had a lot of races to get through before the first semester ended.

Harry and Daphne were standing next to each other again, though Harry recognized a new kind of nervousness in her. Her hands shook slightly, wrapped tightly around her broom. She kept scratching her arm, too. But her jaw was set and determined and Harry knew there was no way Daphne was going to back out of this race.

"You sure you're okay after last time?" He asked. She gritted her teeth.

"I'm fine. Stop asking."

"You could have died, Daphne. It's a valid question. No one would blame you if you were afraid." That was clearly the wrong thing to say, because Daphne whirled on him, eyes narrowed, glaring.

"Aren't you the Gryffindor? Aren't you supposed to tell me to 'face my fears'?" Harry shrugged.

"It's not about being brave. It's about staying alive."

"I'm not done here yet." Daphne insisted.

"Okay then." Harry held his hands up defensively. "No one said you were." She scowled at him.

"Don't you dare go easy on me."

"Don't worry; I won't, _Phne_." Now she really was pissed.

"I liked it better when you called me Frosty."

XXXX

The race went well, with Harry, Daphne, two second years, and a third year neck and neck for most of the race. Things got incredibly violent halfway through the third lap, with the five of them caught in a fight. No one was able to make it across the finish line in time, though Daphne seemed to have gained a bit of her confidence back, if the way she was ramming people into trees and taking careless risks by the end of the race was any indication.

Not that Harry was reprimanding her for taking careless risks; after all, he took quite a few of his own.

It ended in a draw, but the battle was still entertaining to watch, according to the Vipertooths.

All in all, things went well.

Now Harry just needed to win a _fucking_ race.

XXXX

"Professor?" Harry knocked lightly on the door to the Deputy Headmistress's office. It was open, but he didn't want to startle her by just coming in. McGonagall glanced up from her desk full of papers. She quickly moved her quill back so she wouldn't drip on the paper.

"Yes, Mr. Kasinger?" Her glasses were halfway down her nose and she peered over them at her student.

"May I come in?" She stared at him even as she answered, curious to what he could want from her.

"Of course. Take a seat. Close the door?" He closed it behind him before seating himself and facing her. "What can I help you with, Mr. Kasinger?"

"Madam Pomfrey told me to ask you..." He began, trying to figure out where to begin. McGonagall nodded encouragingly and waited for him. "I realized I didn't really know anything about careers in the wizarding world and what I'm going to do after school. I know I'm a little young to be thinking about this, but it's just..." He blinked and searched for words to explain what he wanted to say. "It's weird. I knew my options in the Muggle world. I knew what I could do, maybe things that I wanted to do, like any kid really and now I'm here and none of that matters." McGonagall nodded again.

"I understand completely, Mr. Kasinger. Many Muggleborn students feel like this. The switch from Muggle to wizard is harder than originally thought."

"How come there isn't an introductory course for Muggleborns then?" Harry inquired and McGonagall looked confused.

"It's something the prefects are supposed to do. They explain the wizarding world, wizarding careers, things like that." Harry let out a laugh so loud he surprised even himself. "I take it they have not been fulfilling these duties?"

"Professor, no offense, but perhaps you shouldn't rely on students who have exams coming up that will decide the course of their lives to take care a bunch of confused firsties who don't even know what questions to ask." McGonagall looked crestfallen.

"How long have they been shirking? How come no one came to tell me this?" Harry shrugged.

"I didn't know this was something they were supposed to do in the first place. How would I have known to complain?" McGonagall swallowed.

"That...is an excellent point, Mr. Kasinger. But not what you came here for. I can explain some careers to you know and I will make a list for anything I can think of. How about we start with Ministry jobs?" Harry must have made a face. "Not to your liking?"

"I hate politics." McGonagall suppressed a smile, but wrote down a few things anyways, on a clean sheet of parchment.

"Yes, but you are also eleven."

"Fair point."

"What about law enforcement?" That was one job that Harry could never see himself going into. Kid with Bad Attitude Joins Law Enforcement. What a novel idea.

"Somehow, I don't think law enforcement and I would work out." McGonagall did smile this time.

"I don't know, Mr. Kasinger. Students much more unruly than you have chosen paths in law enforcement."

"I'm not convinced."

"You could always work in the international department of the Ministry." That could be interesting, but Harry still shied away from any government job. "Would you like to work with animals? We recently had a student go and work on a dragon reserve."

"I know, Charlie Weasley." Realization dawned on McGonagall.

"Ah, Mr. and Mr. Weasley must have told you. Thoughts on it?"

"I think I'd like that. Dunno how _good_ I would be, but sounds like something I'd like."

"What kind of wand do you have, Mr. Kasinger?" McGonagall asked curiously. "Would you mind showing it to me?" Harry shrugged and pulled his wand out, setting it on the desk.

"It's ironwood, eleven and a half inches, with a phoenix feather core. Stubborn, was what Ollivander said. It'd be a difficult wand." McGonagall picked it up, turning it over in her hand. "He was right."

"It is said that the wizard with an ironwood wand is particularly willful and stubborn." She looked up at Harry, who shrugged.

"It's not wrong." She smiled at that, before handing his wand back to him.

"Phoenix feather core is traditionally good for Defense Against the Dark Arts and fire elemental magic. Along with your wand wood, which is generally suited to metal-working through its fire and earth affiliation, I'd say you have a very strong elemental build here if you utilize it correctly."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning subtlety is not your forte." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I knew that already." McGonagall's lips twitched.

"I would definitely say now that things largely involving paperwork and deskwork are not for you. You would need a very active job. That rules out a lot of things."

"I am still only eleven." Harry pointed out.

"Yes, but your wand has to do with who you are and something this fundamental will not change. I don't believe you will ever be suited to paperwork. If you wanted to work with magical creatures, I'd say definitely go for it, but you would also want to look into runic work, metal-charming, or magic smithing." Harry cocked his head to the side as she explained. "For runes, you could make wards, enchanted objects, things like that. Warding is always in high demand and runes can be very powerful when used correctly. Along with a skill in warding, you could work backwards and become a Curse Breaker or Ward Breaker, which often go hand in hand." McGonagall paused. "Do you need me to explain anything?" Harry shook his head. Curse Breaker and Ward Breaker were pretty self explanatory.

"If you wanted to do anything in spellwork, either creating spells or breaking spells, I strongly recommend Arithmancy too. I think that regardless, you should take Ancient Runes in your third year. I can promise you that you will have a lot of skill in that regard. For runic work, metal-charming is where charms and enchantments are imbued into an object, such as the Golden Snitch in a Quidditch game. Metal-charmers make those and other objects. Magic smithing is similar, but includes a much larger field. You can enchant objects, create magical items."

"What do you mean by elemental magic?" Harry interrupted. "You mentioned it earlier and said it had to do with these things." McGonagall paused to add to her ever-growing list of career options.

"Elemental magic is the use of the elements. The most elemental magic taught at Hogwarts is fire charms, water charms, but many spells in general tend to tie in with some sort of elemental alignment. Elemental magic isn't used to its full potential anymore because it was an art of war and faded out of use a long time ago. It's not a particularly hard magic to use; most people just never learn it because it has a very high destructive potential and not useful for the domestic magic we are used to." McGonagall explained. "In certain circles though, a powerful elemental wizard can be invaluable. Alchemy, for example."

"Alchemy?"

"I assume you've heard it in popular Muggle culture?" She inquired and Harry nodded.

"Yeah...I get that it's about transmutation and elixirs and all that, but what does it have to do with elemental magic?"

"Alchemy is also about understanding and utilizing the four base elements. It's quite a vague field, actually. I think there are quite a few aspects you would enjoy, but you would have to get your grades in Potions up and make it to NEWT levels." Harry snorted. "One can dream." McGonagall said with a sigh. "Is all this helping?" Harry nodded.

"Immensely."

"Many of these fields are challenging, but I feel it is what you would be best-suited for. Would you mind if I gave you a rough schedule recommendation for your time at Hogwarts? It may be a bit premature, but you would have more time to discover what these subjects entail and accurately judge them for yourself."

"Go for it." Harry said.

"For your third year, the electives I'd recommend are Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes primarily. Arithmancy would also be a very good class to have under your belt and could be interchangeable with Care of Magical Creatures if you wish, but it is necessary to be a Curse Breaker. You need at least an OWL in it. I still fully recommend that you take Ancient Runes."

"What about Divination?" McGonagall made a face.

 _Holy shit. McGonagall made a face._

"I will acknowledge that Divination truly is an art and many accurate predictions have been made using the methods Professor Trelawney will teach you, but Divination is not for everyone. If you don't have the inborn ability to do it, it's essentially useless. I do not recommend you take it, unless you believe that you personally have made accurate predictions or have the sort of inner eye she discusses."

"Yeah, I'm not taking that." McGonagall looked visibly relieved.

"If there is sufficient demand, in your sixth and seventh years, Alchemy may be taught. If you qualify at that point, I would recommend you take it. Additionally, an extra-curricular subject I recommend is Magical Theory. It does not have an OWL or NEWT counterpart and does not count for a grade, but it covers the way spells work and many other interesting and valuable topics. Please keep in mind, Mr. Kasinger, that these courses can be dropped at any time if you feel overwhelmed."

"I know. It's not that many classes, really." Harry said with a shrug. McGonagall blinked. "Public school jams a lot more into a lot smaller of a schedule." He explained. "I think I'll be able to handle it."

"After you take your OWLS, I would recommend that you drop History of Magic and Astronomy. History of Magic is useless if you don't want to be a historian and Astronomy carries very little weight too. Herbology would be incredibly valuable, but could also be dropped if necessary, though you may not want to if you're looking at Alchemy." McGonagall leaned back in her seat and smiled at Harry. "This has been rather overwhelming, hasn't it?"

"A little bit." He admitted. "I think I'm about good for today. Thank you, Professor. This has been very helpful." McGonagall nodded cheerfully, leaning across her desk and handing the parchment to Harry.

"Just in case. My office is always open, Mr. Kasinger, and you are welcome to come talk to me at any time."

XXXX

Quidditch tryouts came and went and Harry had seen several students crying over the stress. Harry thought it was a bit stupid for there not to be any intramural Quidditch teams. After all, it wasn't really fair that only seven students in each house got to play Quidditch. Sure, there was the Reserve Team, but it was hard as hell to get a Quidditch player off the field, even with broken bones and massive internal bleeding.

Cedric had been a nervous wreck the entire week and even the Twins seemed a bit nervous. Broom Racing was postponed for tryout week and the first week of practices so Harry hadn't seen as much of the team as usual. There was, however, going to be a Halloween race and Harry was beyond ready for it. He and Daphne had been flying together, preparing for the next race. Harry was determined to win this one and get some points for his team. It was really between him and Daphne now and Harry found himself strategically holding back when they flew together in order to surprise her during the race. He was sure Daphne was doing the same.

But first, they had to get through the school day.

It was time for Charms and Harry had been jammed into the front row with Ron, Granger, and Neville. Flitwick partnered him and Neville up, which Harry had no problem with. It was Ron and Granger he had the problem with.

Since day one the two of them had been at each other's throat.

Ron complained Granger was too studious.

Granger complained Ron wasn't studious enough

Ron complained Granger was a goody-two-shoes.

Granger complained Ron had no respect for authority.

On and on it went. And it was true. All of it, pretty much. Everyone else just kind of let it go, but the two of them were hanging on like a dog to a bone.

And now Flitwick had gone and partnered them together.

The incantation they were learning today was _Wingardium leviosa_ , a levitating charm. Flitwick explained that there were limits on what the charm could hold and that a general rule was not to try and lift something heavier than yourself. That could be very bad.

They were only using feathers today, so the main goal was just to get it working, not to stretch the spell's limits.

Harry turned to Neville, who already had his wand out and was aiming to take a crack at it. He lifted his wand and began to bring it down in a much sharper motion than Flitwick had showed them.

" _Wingard_ -" Harry grabbed Neville's arm. Neville paused. "What?"

"How about we just run through the motions first?" Harry pleaded. He really didn't want to see anything go horribly wrong today.

Right on cue, Seamus Finnegan's feather exploded in the back of the classroom. Somehow. Sometimes, Seamus Finnegan just did things with spells that weren't supposed to be done. No one asked how.

Neville twisted his head to see Seamus's smoking eyebrows. He paled considerably.

"Yeah. That sounds good."

Harry and Neville worked out the swish-and-flick together, ignoring the rising noise of the classroom. They ran through the incantation a few more times, making sure they were pronouncing it correctly. They made ambient conversation. Harry wanted to ask him how he was doing, but Neville looked like he was holding up alright in the first place and Harry didn't think bringing up his dead parents right now was the best idea. It was the anniversary of his parents' murder, after all. He'd ask him later, in private.

"Alright, try now." Harry said to his fellow Gryffindor, who looked more confident than he had before.

" _Wingardium leviosa_." He said. His feather fluttered off the desk, but didn't stay up for long. Neville jerked back and the feather fluttered back down.

"That went well." Harry said. Neville nodded in agreement, before trying it again. He improved this time and Harry tried his own hand at it.

" _Wingardium leviosa_." He lifted the feather off the desk, but it slipped from the magical grip once he got about a foot off the desk. He gave it another try, and just like Neville, did much better. Soon enough, the two of them were able to confidently hold the spell.

Flitwick tottered over to congratulate them on a job well done.

"A masterfully executed spell, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Kasinger!" He squeaked enthusiastically. "And I'm glad to see my students exercising such caution and control. Take 10 points to Gryffindor each!" Neville's face lit up, overjoyed. He didn't get points in class very often. He was too shy to raise his hand and never the first one to understand the spell. Receiving points would do wonders for his self confidence.

Harry had to say, he liked Flitwick immensely. Flitwick was very conscientious about his students, but also very aware of their struggles. He had noticed Flitwick congratulating shy or unsure students on several occasions, going out of his way to do so. He figured Flitwick knew how important it was for a student to hear positive feedback. If Harry hadn't been in Gryffindor, he would have liked to go to Ravenclaw.

Beside them, Ron and Granger exploded.

"It's _LevIOsa_ , not _LeviosAAA_!" Granger shouted as Ron's feather hit her in the face.

"OH, I'M SORRY I'M NOT AS SMART AS YOU!" He shouted back, snatching his feather out of the air before it could flutter to the desk and crushing it in his palm.

"I'M JUST TRYING TO SHOW YOU WHAT TO DO!"

"IF IT'S SO EASY, WHY DON'T YOU DO IT?" Granger's face was beet red as she yanked her wand out.

"FINE!" She snapped. "I WILL!" She pointed her wand, beginning the swish and flick motion. " _Wingardium levIOsa_." She said with extra emphasis, shooting glares at Ron while she levitated her feather off the desk with ease. Ron crossed his arms and stared at the desk angrily, muttering. He refused to meet the bushy-haired girl's eyes, even after she tucked her wand away and stared him down. "You were saying, Ronald?"

Harry and Neville watched this go down cautiously.

"Merlin." Neville whispered. "What's gotten into them, I wonder?" Harry snorted.

"They're always like this."

"Ron seems angrier than usual though."

"He's frustrated and he won't say it." Ron had a hard time expressing frustration; whenever he hit a particularly big bump in the road, he had a tendency to yell at those trying to help them. Harry knew from experience after a rough essay. Ron apologized later, of course. And Harry wasn't all that upset in the first place, but he had to wonder how Granger was going to take it.

Flitwick bustled over to try and help Ron and calm the pair down, but Harry didn't see that going too well.

Later, as they were filing out of the classroom, Ron made a point of brushing past Granger to sidle up to Harry and Neville.

"Merlin, the nerve of that girl." He said in a loud voice, clearly not caring who heard him. Harry didn't think he was saying it so that Granger could hear specifically, but Harry was getting the feeling that Ron was about to say something he would regret.

"Ron, you were just frustrated." Harry said.

"And she's a know-it-all!"

"Maybe she is, but screaming at her was a bit much." Harry pointed out. Neville gave Ron a nervous look, as if he was afraid to disagree with him.

"Ron, maybe you should have laid off a bit. You've been kind of mean to her since we started school."

"Then maybe she should work on being less of a nightmare!" He argued. "No wonder that girl has no friends."

Granger roughly shoved her way in between Harry and Ron, head tucked down to her chest, clutching her books. Her hair was flying so they couldn't really see her face, but even among the clamor of students, Harry heard an unmistakable sob.

Harry sprang into action after her, but she was gone in an instant, lost among the crowd. Harry turned to glare at Ron instead, who was at a loss for words.

"Great job, asshole."

"How was I supposed to know she'd be listening?" Ron defended himself. Harry smacked himself in the forehead, exasperated.

"We better go find her and apologize to her." Neville said. Harry sighed.

"I don't think it's any use. We won't find her in the castle if she doesn't want to be found. It's too big."

"Should we wait until dinner and see if she shows up?" Neville asked. Harry rubbed his forehead.

"I feel like we should be doing more, but it's not really up to us, I suppose. After all, it's not us who need to apologize to her." He glared pointedly at Ron, who stared at them blithely.

"Great. We'll wait til dinner. I'm starving." Harry sighed again.

XXXX

"Where's Granger?" Harry asked, peering around the table. It was dinner already, and he wasn't seeing her.

"She ran off earlier." Parvati Patil said, sipping from her goblet. It was the Halloween feast, so that meant Peeves was causing more havoc than usual and that the students were louder than usual. The raucous laughter in the Great Hall almost covered up the sounds of the titanic thunderstorm raging outside.

"She was really upset." Lavender Brown offered "She was in the girls' bathroom all afternoon, crying her eyes out. We tried to get her to come out for dinner, but she wouldn't leave."

Harry glared at Ron, who shrugged and wolfed more of his dinner down.

"Do you think she'll come out any time soon?" Neville asked. Patil shrugged.

"She might sneak back to the dorms while all of us are in the Great Hall. I should grab her something to eat." Patil suddenly realized. She searched for a place to put some food, but didn't have any pockets and everyone left their bags in their dorms.

"Here, I'll help." Harry said. He stuffed a few biscuits wrapped in napkins into his pockets. Him and the girls grabbed food that wouldn't get crushed and wrapped it up for Granger.

"Thanks for your help and all," Patil began. "But didn't you do something to upset her too? I thought she was mad at you." Harry sighed.

"I wanted to talk to her, but she thought I was trying to...use her. Make her write my essay for me. I wasn't." Harry said quickly. "But she didn't really give me time to explain and I didn't want to get into it in front of a bunch of people later on." Brown looked suspiciously at Harry.

"I'm not sure I believe you."  
"I wouldn't do something like that." He said fervently.

"I believe him." Patil told her friend.

"What? But he-,"

"I believe him." Patil repeated. Harry was suddenly remembered her name. Parvati Patil of the...Chimaeras? He believed it was. Patil was a racer. "And you can just call me Parvati. Everyone does."

"Call me Harry, then."

"Not Hadrian?"

"I'm only Hadrian when I'm in trouble." Parvati smiled.

 _BANG_!

Harry twisted his head to look over his shoulder, where the doors went flying open. Quirrell ran into the room, eliciting a curious, quick hiss of pain from Neville.

" _TROOOOLLL IN THE DUNGEON_!" He screamed as he sprinted down the length of the room, only slowing before the staff table. He looked like he'd been run ragged from the expression on his face and the way he'd been breathing, but Harry noted that the man hadn't even broken a sweat, despite what must have been a heavy turban and heavy robes. " _Thought you ought to know_." His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed, falling forward.

The moment he hit the ground, the effect was immediate.

The Great Hall filled with screams. Harry looked over at Slytherin table to see Malfoy's eyes wide as he screamed and scrambled to his feet. Blaise was sitting there among his fellow students calmly, looking exasperated. He and Harry shared a look across the room. Harry smirked back at him, ignoring the screaming students at his own table. Until-

 _Granger_.

 _Oh God she doesn't know._

Harry turned back in his seat, hitting Ron hard in the arm as the Headmaster called for silence and started organizing the prefects to take them back.

"Granger!" He hissed.

"What about her?" Ron asked, mouth still full of food. Neville sucked in a breath across the table, going as white as a ghost.

"She doesn't know, you idiot! She's out in the hallways." Ron's eyes suddenly went very wide.

"Bloody hell." They followed their prefect out of the Great Hall, trying to grab his attention and tell him about the student. Harry would have liked to grab a teacher, but there was no way they were going to reach them through the crowd.

"Percy!" Ron shouted at his brother, who was ignoring him and leading the other students on. "Bloody hell, Percy! Turn around!" Finally, the red-headed boy turned around to glare at his brother.

"Ronald! I am busy! Go ask someone else!" Percy spun back around before Ron could get a word in edgewise.

"Fuck this." Harry said, and he tapped Parvati on the shoulder. The anxious girl turned to face him. "Which floor was Granger on?" Realization dawned on the Indian girl.

"Oh _Merlin_."

"Just tell me the floor. We're gonna go grab her. If it's still in the dungeons, we can get to her and back to Gryffindor Tower in time."

"Second floor." Parvati said. " _Be careful_!" Harry grabbed his two friends by the arms and dragged them away, ducking around the corner.

"Where are we going?" Neville asked fearfully.

"We're gonna go get Granger, because apparently we have to do everything ourselves."

"What about the prefects?"

" _Fuck_ the prefects." Ron snickered.

"Don't let Percy hear you say that." Harry ignored him.

"The troll is in the dungeons and I can't imagine it's moving very fast. Granger's on the second floor so we'll go grab her and nip back to the tower before it even gets to the first floor. Besides, the teachers went to deal with it, so chances are they'll handle it before we even see it." Harry explained patiently, but he was already breaking out into a run. When they got to the staircase, he skipped steps, hoping he wasn't going to get caught on one of the trick steps. Neville and Ron scrambled to keep up.

"Are we going to be okay?" Neville asked.

"We'll be fine. Just keep your wands out." Harry said.

"We shouldn't be doing this ourselves. That doesn't sound so reassuring, mate."  
"Neither did Percy." Ron winced.

XXXX

Hermione had finally stopped crying.

It had been several hours now, of trying to wipe away the tears that she just couldn't stop and using toilet paper to wipe away snot and tossing the little wadded-up balls in the toilet. She was now dehydrated and wished she had thought to bring some water with her or something.

It was exhausting, crying for so long.

She didn't know why she'd been so upset. But first, it had been Ronald yelling at her in Charms. Then she heard him leaving the classroom, muttering about how much of a useless, know-it-all bint she was. The yelling, she could take. But that...that had really hurt.

And then he was talking to his friends. Telling them how much of a nightmare she was, how she had no friends.

It had been so _humiliating_.

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. Maybe she didn't belong in Gryffindor. She wasn't brave like the rest of them. Sure, she'd stood up to Malfoy that one time, but would never have gone the distance. Would never have wrestled him down and pried the Remembrall from his hands if she had to. Would never have punched him in the face. She might not have even gone to get a teacher, for fear that she would be ostracized even more. And it was clear that if Hadrian Kasinger had not stepped in, Malfoy wasn't going to give back the Remembrall and no one would have done anything. Everyone was afraid of Malfoy; because his family had power and he wasn't afraid to use it. She was afraid of him too.

She didn't belong with the Gryffindors. She let everything get to her.

She reached to wipe her eyes, when a loud rumbling noise startled her. She tried to peer out of the cracks in the stall door, looking for the source.

"Hello?" She asked quietly. "Is anyone there?"

No answer.

She stood up, leaning forward, curious.

"Hello?" She asked again, blinking hard.

And then she heard the heavy breathing.

The heavy breathing that matched slow, heavy steps that made the floor shake a little, followed by the noise of something very heavy being dragged behind. Hermione felt the hairs on her neck stand up. This wasn't a person; it sounded like...an animal. But bigger. Way bigger. She jumped up onto the toilet seat, to hide her feet, bracing her hands against the side of the stall to maintain balance. _Maybe if it didn't see or hear her it would leave?_

The door creaked open and she heard the footsteps get closer. _Oh God_. It was coming inside. It stopped all of a sudden, grunting, before it started to move again, followed by a cracking noise as bits of the door frame came off.

Hermione had unknowingly started holding her breath.

Now, she could see it through the side of the stall. It was a troll; a massive one at that. It was at least twice her height and heavyset- it must have weighed a literal ton or two. And with that magically resistant skin? It was shock proof, fireproof, burnproof, electricity proof, and most importantly, largely magic proof. It was a funny-looking creature, sure, with a small head on a large body. But she knew mountain trolls were notoriously vicious. Hermione was terrified. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest that it hurt.

The creature wandered over to the stalls, making heavy breathing noises and dragging its club behind it. It sniffed occasionally, but Hermione remembered reading that mountain trolls didn't have good senses of smell. Actually, they didn't have any good senses really. But the fact that they were nearly unkillable made them dangerous predators all the same.

The troll passed her stall slowly, far too slowly for Hermione's comfort. She tucked her arms in, so he couldn't see them as he passed, though Hermione doubted the troll would have seen them anyways. Better safe than sorry, though.

Hermione had to physically restrain herself from letting out a breath when the troll finally passed. She put her hands back up on the wall to keep balance. It was moving away; slowly, but it was getting there. She thought she was in the clear.

 _BANG!_

Hermione nearly screamed as she jumped, losing her balance. Her foot slipped into the toilet, banging her ankle against the seat rather painfully, and making a loud splashing noise. Unbeknownst to her, she also let out a loud squeak as her other leg slipped off the seat and slammed to the ground next to her, leaving her in a rather uncomfortable position.

The troll had slammed the door in of the stall next to her, before ripping it off and causing the whole line of stalls to shake.

Hermione was struggling to free herself from the awkward position, panicking as she heard the troll turning back towards her stall. She saw it raise the club above its head, and screamed as loud as she could when he brought it down on the door and down on her.

XXXX

Harry could feel the troll before he saw it. It's footsteps were heavy and it was dragging something behind it from the sound. The three of them were creeping along carefully now that they were closer to it and Harry could feel Ron's anxiety shooting through the roof.

"I really, really hope that's not Granger." He whispered.

"I thought the troll was supposed to be in the dungeons." Neville was sweating now.

"Either trolls are a lot faster than I thought they were or Quirrell was lying." Harry said, peering around the corner with narrowed eyes. They moved up, scoping out the area. Harry quickly yanked the two boys back as he spotted the troll in the doorway of the girls' bathroom, struggling to get through the door.

The bathroom Granger was in.

"Maybe Granger moved." Neville said thoughtfully. "Maybe the troll can't even get through the door."

 _Crunch._

The troll forced its way through the door, breaking the frame.

"Shit."

"Maybe Granger's not in there anymore." Neville offered. "Maybe she moved already." Harry wanted to believe that, but he didn't.

The three boys followed the troll, bending down to make themselves smaller and less visible. They were just about to look into the bathroom when Harry heard Granger scream.

XXXX

Harry entered just as the troll started to bring the club down.

" _ARESTO MOMENTUM!_ " He screamed, wand pointed at the club. The club started to decrease in velocity until it came to a near stop just as it was touching the door.

Inside, Hermione took the opportunity to yank her foot out of the toilet and scramble underneath the stall to the one on the other side.

The troll jerked around, growling at Harry.

"Bloody hell." Harry heard Ron whisper behind him. Neville whimpered.

The troll growled and started clomping towards Harry angrily, lifting its club above its head again and letting out a roar that Harry could swear shook the entire room.

"RUN!" He shouted in a hoarse voice, and the three of them scattered. Harry dove to the side, the club cracking the ground where he'd previously been standing. The troll spun and snarled, looking for a target. Unfortunately, Ron was the next person it saw. It started to head for him again, as Ron scrambled backwards and screamed, knocking his head on the sink.

" _Colloshoo_!" Harry shouted. The ectoplasm formed by the feet of the troll, making it trip temporarily, but it easily ripped its feet from the mess after a moment. Ron fired a few jinxes at the troll, but it was having none of that.

"RON! MOVE!" Harry shouted, shoving Ron to the side as the troll brought its club down on the sink. Ron scrambled out of the way and Harry rolled to his feet, firing off a few jinxes that he didn't think would work anyways. He was right; they didn't have any effect on the troll.

"NEVILLE! A LITTLE HELP HERE!" Harry screamed, flicking his eyes over to the pale boy who stood there, trembling on the other side of the bathroom. Neville's eyes were wide in fear. But with prompting from Harry, he slowly lifted his wand, arm shaking. "GET THE CLUB AWAY FROM IT!" Harry darted to the side, avoiding another swing of the club. He ducked as the troll dragged the club across the stalls, destroying the tops of every single one. They revealed Hermione Granger, cowering in the same stall she'd crawled into. The troll spotted her and switched targets, lifting the club to smash her. She let out a blood-curdling scream.

"NO!" Harry shouted, and the club abruptly changed direction. Harry's eyes widened.

 _CRACK!_

He let out a gasp so loud it hurt as the club caught him in the side and smashed him up against the stalls. His feet left the ground, reminiscent of the explosion in Snape's storeroom. He collapsed to the floor, wheezing. His eyes were watering from the pain and his vision was swimming, flashing black and white.

Several broken ribs, at least. Smashed internal organs. Is my chest cavity collapsing?

It sure feels like it.

He glanced down, and sure enough, his torso was smushed in at the side He was having trouble breathing, but the pain was fading as the adrenaline and shock increased. Thank God.

" _WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!_ " Harry heard Neville cry, panicked, and Harry wasted no time.

" _Avifors_." He whispered and the debris turned into a flock of birds that swarmed the troll's head.

It let out a guttural yell, swinging its fists at them.

" _Antlifors_!" Ron's spell hit the troll solidly and it sprouted antlers from the top of his head. It got caught on the ceiling, scraping against the stone, cracking and breaking. It screamed angrily, and reached up to cup its head in its massive hands, downing a few more birds in the process. Blood was being sprayed onto the walls at this point, a horrifying sight.

" _Obscuro_!" A blindfold appeared over the troll's eyes and it swung the club wildly. "RON! HELP ME! AIM FOR ITS HEAD!" Harry shouted, releasing a constant stream of low-level jinxes at the mountain troll. Neville focused fire with them and the troll struggled with the blindfold for a solid few minutes. It gave the three of them a chance to catch their breath as they dodged the rampaging beast.

Finally, Harry saw the skin blister and crack.

" _ENGORGIO SKULLUS_!" The head of the troll began to expand, becoming bigger and bigger until it looked plain freakish- the neck was thick to begin with, but it hadn't grown to keep up with the head size. It was like a massive baby; it couldn't keep its head up, which was rolling every which way as it tried to move. The blindfold burst off its face.

" _Fumos_." There went the troll's vision. Harry was trusting Neville here.

"NEVILLE! HIT IT IN THE HEAD WITH THE CLUB!" The club flew from the ground and Harry watched as it head high-speed towards the head. Harry grabbed a pile of wood and metal that had been broken off of the bathroom stall and pushed off across the ground, sliding easily due to the water on the floor from the busted sink and toilets. Blood was streaked along the floor, from the dead birds lying on the ground and from Harry's chest wound. It turned the water a foggy red.

"HIT IT IN THE BACK!" he screamed to Ron, voice hoarse, barely able to breathe. He didn't know what Ron hit the troll with, but he did it just as the club collided with the troll's now oversized and hard to control head. It started to fall forward, and before it could catch itself, Harry and the debris slammed into its feet. Harry scrambled out of the way before the troll could land on him.

It seemed as if it took forever for the troll to fall, but once it did, it cracked all the tile and hit the ground with a thud that shook the entire bathroom. Harry felt his hair blast back from his face as the troll hit the ground. It crashed into a few stalls and destroyed them completely. It let out a loud, hot breath, but did not move.

"Bloody hell." Someone whispered. Harry nodded in agreement, staring with wide eyes. They'd taken down a bloody troll.

He laid down against the ground, still wheezing. He rested his head on a piece of debris and stared up at the cracked ceiling, one hand clutching his chest.

"Need...Madam...Pomfrey..." He wheezed. His stomach was twisting itself into knots. Neville scrambled to his feet, pale when he saw Harry lying on the ground.

"I'll go. I'll be right back." He jumped over the debris and rushed out the door, screaming for a teacher at the top of his lungs.

"H-harry?" A trembling voice asked.

"You...alright...Granger?" The bushy-haired girl swam into view, face still streaked with tears, eyes watery and scared.

"I-i'm fine. Are you...are you going to be okay?"

"Prob..ably." He shifted and something crunched in his pocket. He stuck his hand in. "I'm afraid...your food...got...a little beaten...up." He pulled out a napkin full of biscuits and offered the handful to Granger. "Biscuit?" Granger let out a sob, but she took one anyways.

Ron crawled over to the two of them and his face came into view next to Granger's.

"Mate?" He asked, concerned.

"Hey." Harry responded.

"You're gonna be fine." Ron sounded confident, but he was chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"I know." Harry muttered, closing his eyes for a moment, before he forced them open again.

"Y-you guys came for me. All of you." Granger whispered.

"Of course we did." Ron said. "I'm sorry. For what I said earlier. I didn't mean it. I was frustrated."

"It's okay."

"And...I...wasn't trying...to use...you. Wanted...to be...friends...Sorry...for hurting...you." Granger covered her face with her hands as she burst into tears.

Harry stared up at the ceiling, reflecting on the events that brought him here.

He could probably stand to be a bit less of an asshole, most of the time. It wouldn't kill him.

Footsteps brought his attention back to the destroyed bathroom as Neville sprang through the door, leading the group of adults behind him.

And what a sight the bathroom must have been.

There were dead birds smeared on the walls and the floor and the troll was lying in a heap of debris, vastly misshapen and occasionally twitching. There was blood on the floor, streaming from Harry's torso, all the way across the room. The sinks were destroyed, pipes spraying water into the air and sharp bits of porcelain covered the room.

"MR. KASINGER!" McGonagall shrieked.

"Present." The professors hurried over and Ron and Hermione shied back to give them room.

McGonagall bent over Harry, examining his torso with a look of fear in her eyes.

"M'Okay." Harry claimed.

"What happened to him?" McGonagall wanted to know.

"The troll caught him in the side with its club." Neville explained quietly. "And it tripped over him."

"Oh Merlin..." Professor Sprout whispered.

" _M'Okay_." Harry insisted.

"What happened here in the first place?" Flitwick wanted to know. The room was dead silent.

"It was my fault, Professor." Hermione broke through the silence. "I'd read about trolls and I-," Harry made a loud noise. Hermione frowned. "And I-," Harry made the same noise. McGonagall glanced down at her student.

"The story is a bit different?" Harry nodded. "We'll talk about this later." She decided. "Mr. Kasinger desperately needs medical assistance."

XXXX

Hey guys! So I hope you enjoyed it. I wanted to bring up the concept of Life Debt, so I did.

I suppose I could have included the second race, but I felt like it would have been rushed and I really wanted to get to the troll in this chapter. Besides, if I include a race, I want to go in depth with it. Like, _really in depth._ I want people to _feel_ it.

And I got a chance to address wizarding careers which was never really done in the books. At least not substantially. I feel like there were so many oversights with the education of Muggleborn wizards, career being one of them. Growing up in the Muggle world meant that these kids already had expectations and dreams for themselves within the parameters of their reality. And in an instant, that's all gone. For a lot of wizarding careers, you have to know what you want to do as early as third year, which is when electives start. That's really early and that doesn't give Muggleborn students a lot of time to figure it out on their own if no one wants to them about it. So I wanted that.

And never fear! This isn't about to turn into an overpowered Harry fic. I'm not going to give him super elemental powers. It's just some interesting things I came across researching wandlore and wood lore that I figured was worth mentioning. He might learn a couple of fire spells beyond the norm and stuff like that, but I'm not interested in creating the invincible elemental mage. He's interesting because he's vulnerable, despite his bravery and daring. He's not going to become an overpowered alchemist or anything either, it's just another thing that I figured was worth mentioning. Other characters might look into these things, but not Harry. He's not exactly studious by nature.

You guys are gonna be in for a long, wild ride, though I do hope to speed up first year a bit now. Broom Racing is what's going to take over my life, mostly. I am so incredibly pumped to get to second year, too. Big things will be happening, my friends.

As always, please leave a review on the way out! It is so lovely hearing from you all, but most of all, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys! So one last final chapter for a while. I really wanted to get it out and it's a long one. It was going to be longer at first, but then I realized it would probably put it at about 13,000-15,000 words _without_ the author's note and that was ridiculous.

Also, wow, I'm sorry for all the typos and mistakes in the last chapter. I don't mean this in a passive aggressive manner; I was reading through it and noticing them and absolutely losing my mind over it. I don't typically make mistakes like that in the first place, but it was pretty late when I was writing the chapter and even later when I was editing. I never really spend as much time editing as I should and things slipped past me that definitely shouldn't have. I really just wanted to get it posted.

I just. Like. Jesus, I can't believe I did that. I wrote new instead of knew. TWICE. WITHIN A SENTENCE OR TWO OF EACH OTHER.

LIKE WHAT AN AMATEUR MISTAKE.

IT AIN'T FUCKING AMATEUR HOUR, KORIA. LIKE JESUS CHRIST, I GOTTA PULL MYSELF TOGETHER.

So hopefully that won't be happening again.

But you never know.

Feel free to point out my mistakes; because I'll go back and fix them. It bothers me just as much as it bothers you guys. Possibly more.

Anyways, so as much as I love Ron and Hermione, there's going to be way more going on. The Golden Trio isn't the same, and I see Blaise and Daphne taking the position as Harry's main friends for a long time. Ron, Hermione, and Neville will develop parallel to Blaise, Daphne, and Harry. Not to force you guys into a certain mindset, but there should be certain connections and parallels drawn between Harry and Neville. Maybe not so visible now, but they will be even more so in the future.

Yeah, so I don't want to go for the whole, "Dumbledore is horrible and manipulative and evil" trope, but Harry isn't going to think very highly of him. Dumbledore lies a lot, and there's really no way to get past that. I'm not gonna ride this train forever, but a lot of shady stuff is going down in first year and Harry is a highly suspicious person. He doesn't trust adults; that's it. There's going to be less suspicion cast on Dumbledore for second year, because at that point Harry will know that these professors would never try to actively harm a student and I can genuinely rationalize that Dumbledore didn't know where the Chamber of Secrets was or how to stop whatever was happening. But at this point, Harry is surrounded by unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar world and he doesn't trust adults before shady shit starts going down and he's smart enough to know that they're lying to him afterwards. It would be a massive oversight to not cast any scrutiny upon Dumbledore. And Harry doesn't think he's evil. He just sees him as a typical politician. In many ways, Dumbledore is.

Once Harry begins interacting with Dumbledore on more of a regular basis, the real fleshing out will come.

Let's get this thing kicked off!

XXXX

"Mr. Kasinger!" Madam Pomfrey admonished while she worked on his torso. She'd given him something to numb the pain (he made a note to ask about that later) and a Wideeye potion, naturally. Harry hadn't asked Madam Pomfrey, but he was almost certain he had a concussion. "What did you get yourself into?"

Harry glanced down. Madam Pomfrey had continually offered some sort of screen to block his view from his smashed torso, but he declined, calm enough to watch her slice open the skin and work on pulling his ribs back into alignment. He felt oddly distant from it, as if it couldn't possibly be his own body. The numbing agent did help, in that instance.

"If you feel even the slightest discomfort, let me know." Madam Pomfrey said. "We can cover this up, numb it, whatever you need."

"I'm okay." He said, ignoring McGonagall, who was nervously pacing around the room, unable to look at the gaping hole in his side and smashed ribs. Madam Pomfrey had shooed Hermione, Neville, and Ron away, presumably to tell the story to one of the other teachers.

Mostly, Harry was just kind of pissed that he might miss the race. He was supposed to be flying tonight and if this goddamn troll ruined his chances...not as if his team was going to blame him. Cedric would probably worry over him like a mother hen and try to coddle him, if anything. But he wanted to fly tonight. And he wanted to _win_.

Harry glanced over to the window. He could always sneak out and climb down, he supposed. But the real concern was getting past Madam Pomfrey.

"Is he going to be okay?" McGonagall asked Madam Pomfrey. Harry detected some guilt in her voice, and tilted his head curiously.

"He's going to be fine." Madam Pomfrey assured her.

"I would have thought you guys already ran into the troll." Harry said.

"The troll was much faster than any of us suspected, I suppose, and we took too much time securing the passage of our students back to their common rooms. Professor Snape needed extra protection to guide his Slytherins to safety."

 _You're a goddamn liar, ma'am._

There was no _way_ that troll was that fast. Or smart enough to navigate its way out of the dungeons in the first place. Not to mention that it would have had to climb multiple moving staircases and the odds of them aligning perfectly just in time for the troll to climb several floors without ever moving abruptly and throwing the heavy creature off was incredibly slim. One floor, Harry could realistically believe. The thing was pretty slow, but it took big steps. Not to mention there were plenty of panicked children on the first floor and all the screaming would have certainly attracted it, even with incredibly dull senses. Two floors, _with_ the professors chasing after it? No way. No fucking way.

But it wasn't as if McGonagall would tell him anything, even if he did point all that out. So he kept his mouth shut and nodded.

McGonagall sighed.

"I am so sorry for what has occurred, Mr. Kasinger. It was our responsibility to take care of the troll and we failed. As a result of that mistake, a student was severely injured and that is inexcusable."

"I'm okay." Harry said. "I mean, Snape did worse to me."

McGonagall winced at that and Harry felt oddly triumphant.

"What happened to the troll?"

"We made an executive decision and destroyed it before it woke up. Trolls are very resistant to magic and we didn't want to take any chances, especially after showing such aggression."

"So, lemme get this straight," Harry begin, shifting to allow Madam Pomfrey better reach. "You killed the troll for hurting me, but Snape nearly killed me and you let him off with barely a slap on the wrist?" McGonagall stared at him.

"Are you suggesting we execute Professor Snape?" Madam Pomfrey suppressed a giggle.

"No." Harry thought about it. "Well, maybe. But my point is that you're more concerned with the troll, who honestly didn't hurt me that badly by comparison, rather than a staff member who severely harmed a student." McGonagall glared at him.

"What happened with Professor Snape was an accident. He did not intend to hurt you in any way, shape or form." Her voice carried a final tone. "The troll was an aggressive beast prone to violence."

"But it's not really the troll's fault, is it?" Harry pointed out. "It's not a sentient being. It doesn't know any better. It doesn't know what it's doing is bad. While Snape definitely knew what he did was bad, and I certainly never received an apology from him."

"Is that what you would like, for Professor Snape to apologize to you?" McGonagall wanted to know.

"No, because it wouldn't be sincere."

"Mr. Kasinger, that is not true." McGonagall gave him a warning glance. Harry held up a hand defensively.

"I get it, I get it. I'm beating a dead horse here _." Besides, even if any of it could be proved, it's not like Dumbledore would actually do anything about it besides sweep it under the rug, since he seems determined to keep Snape on for some reason. A few accusations from an eleven year old isn't going to change that when I'm sure much more substantial evidence has been presented and ignored._

"You would be really bad at politics." Madam Pomfrey observed.

The doors to the Hospital Wing flew open as the Headmaster himself swept in, followed by a rapidly moving Flitwick, and an irritated looking Snape. He was limping slightly, Harry noticed. Professor Sprout brought up the rear, ushering in the rattled students of the affair; Ron, Hermione, and Neville. Harry saw her flinch as she spotted his wound. It looked worse than it was, really. Pomfrey had to widen it in order to work properly, but Harry knew that once the internal injuries were taken care of, it would seal smoothly.

Dumbledore fit the wizard stereotype to a tee; like a bad Muggle rendition of Merlin. He wore bright robes that flowed to his feet, a periwinkle blue blue trimmed with designs done in gold. He had a long, groomed, pure-white beard to match long white hair and a small cap that matched his robes fitted his head. His eyes twinkled behind half-moon glasses. He seemed harmless; everything about him was grandfatherly.

But people in positions in power didn't get there by being kind and accomodating. Harry knew better than to fall for his act.

Maybe it was just the way he naturally was, or maybe it was the fact that Harry had grown up watching the people that were supposed to protect him fail to do so, but he had been suspicious of adults as long as he remembered. Never trust an adult, was what the older kids at the orphanage said, and they had been right.

"Harry, my boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed, coming to Harry's side, peering down at the first year. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone let a troll into the castle and it nearly clobbered me to death." Harry answered immediately. Dumbledore blinked.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because it really sucked?" Harry said questioningly. _And you are wasting my time by the second?_

"No, you said someone let a troll into the castle." McGonagall looked surprised. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Are you telling me that you have a school full of children next to a _massively dangerous forest_ full of _aggressive, violent creatures_ and something as dumb as a mountain troll can just walk in whenever it feels like it?" Harry asked incredulously. "That there's absolutely no protections to deter it?" _What the hell happens when something malevolent and intelligent decides to take a crack at it?_

"No! No." McGonagall said quickly. "No, there are magical protections on the castle. Nothing can get in unless we allow it."

"So how did a _massive_ troll get in? Are you telling me it snuck in through window and no one noticed? That it somehow engineered a brilliant plan to get past centuries-old protections that no one has been able to get past before now?" McGonagall was just digging herself into a hole here. She knew _something_. Harry would bet his life on it. Of course, she would never tell him and it wasn't like Harry expected her to. It was just satisfying to watch her squirm her way about the lie.

McGonagall was a good teacher who loved her students dearly; she was brave, intelligent, and fierce, but Harry suspected there was a fair bit of Gryffindor straightforwardness that she didn't often show. Lying wasn't in her nature, and she was frankly rather bad at it. _Dumbledore_ , on the other hand...

"No, no." Dumbledore said, smiling at Harry. "We suspected the same. We were just...surprised to learn you'd picked up on it. We are looking for the perpetrator. Most likely an older student with a grudge against the Slytherins. Someone smart enough and skilled enough to get the troll into the castle and down into the dungeons. Potentially more than one student is responsible for this catastrophe. But do not fear; they will be brought to justice and punished accordingly. You are very perceptive." Dumbledore complimented him.

...was a politician.

"Uh, thanks."

"Almost finished." Madam Pomfrey informed him, and he felt the familiar touch of healing magic.

"Your friends here informed us of your bravery and heroism." _I stopped a massive beast from murdering a young girl. That's called being a goddamn decent person._

 _And I didn't even do it_ well _._

Dumbledore was smiling at him, nevertheless. "You took action when it needed to be taken and saved Miss Granger's life." Harry glanced back to see Hermione smiling shyly at him from behind a teacher. "All three of you. Courage like that deserves a reward. 30 points to each of you, for your initiative and skill in dealing with the situation." _Yeah, yeah. You're just giving me points because I took a club to the side and a toilet bowl to the head. I'm not dumb. I know how his works. You're just trying to distract me because you're really bad at your job._

 _Or there's something here that I'm not seeing that you don't want me to see._

 _Disappointed, but not surprised._

But Harry played along anyways. He'd done too much to draw attention to himself already. He lost his temper too easily.

"Thank you, Headmaster." _I just want you all to leave so I can figure out a way to sneak past Madam Pomfrey._

"You're welcome, my boy. You all earned it. How about we let you and your friends talk while Madam Pomfrey finishes up with you? You must be impatient to see them." Harry nodded. "The old ones will clear out of here soon." He winked at Harry. "Really, there is no need to be humble, Mr. Kasinger. You are an exemplary Gryffindor."

 _You're just trying to bribe me. You know something._

Harry fought a scowl. He glanced around at the other teachers. McGonagall was terrible at hiding her guilt; she knew something too, Harry suspected. Snape _definitely_ knew something and Harry didn't need to observe him closely to figure that out. He was less sure of Flitwick and Sprout. Lying like that didn't really seem like Professor Sprout's cup of tea, but it was not out of the realm of possibility. Flitwick seemed innocent, but he was intelligent enough to know his way around a good lie.

Lying by omission. Whatever.

"But Headmaster-," McGonagall protested worriedly. Dumbledore waved his hand.

"He's in good hands, Minerva. And I'm sure he wants to talk to his friends without a bunch of old people hanging on his every word." He ushered them out, leaving Harry, Madam Pomfrey, and the three Gryffindors behind.

"So," Ron began awkwardly. Hermione twisted to stare at the door.

"That was the Headmaster! Wasn't he wonderful?" Hermione said giddily. "I mean, I didn't expect him to be exactly like what I'd read, but he was!"

"He was okay." Harry said wearily.

"How you feeling, mate?" Ron asked, eyes averted from Harry's wound.

"Alright. I've felt better. I've felt worse."

"That was...pretty cool, what you did back there." Neville said. "I don't know what we would have done without you."

"Neville, I'd be _dead_ without you." Harry said in a flat tone. "Don't sell yourself short. You too, Ron. If it wasn't for your help, Hermione and I would both be dead." He wasn't kidding; he would have died without the two of them. Sure, he knew some fancy spells and all, but he couldn't have done that on his own. Not before he got injured. Especially not after.

"All of you saved my life." Hermione cut in, staring at Harry specifically. She looked like she wanted to hug him. "I don't know what I would have done." She began tearing up. "I-I never thought anyone would do something like that for m-me." She buried her face in her hands and Ron and Neville tentatively comforted her.

"Done!" Pomfrey said, leaning back from Harry's chest. Harry tilted his head, looking at the smoothly sealed skin.

"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey."

"Oh, I'm not completely done with _you_." She proceeded to shove several potions down his throat while the other three Gryffindors took a seat on a nearby bed. Harry watched the clock while he chugged down the nasty potions. If he rushed, he could probably still make it to the races. It was probably postponed to an hour after curfew; that's what Fred and George had told Harry. Whenever something went wrong that might postpone a race, it was automatically pushed back to 10 pm, to give everyone time to get there. It was only 7:30 right now and first through fourth year curfew was at 8. Harry could still make it to the race.

"I'm keeping you over night." She said. "For observation." Harry frowned.

"Aren't I completely healed up?"

"Yes, but on the off chance I missed something, the slightest dip in your condition could be severely detrimental to your health at such a young age. I'd rather be safe than sorry. You will be able to return to your normal schedule tomorrow, though."

 _Well, that puts a damper on my plans_.

 _Not all is lost though; I can probably still sneak out. Madam Pomfrey might even let me if I play my cards right. I just need my broom and my uniform._

"You kids should start heading back to your dorm, though." Pomfrey said. "It'll be curfew soon."

"We can talk more tomorrow." Harry promised. "Can you take a message to Fred and George for me?" Ron nodded and Harry asked for a piece of paper and a quill. He quickly scribbled out a _trapped in Hospital Wing. can get there on time tho. need you to meet me there with my things. assuming it starts at 10. message back if not._

He folded it up and handed it to Ron, who nodded an affirmative back.

"I'll see you later, mate. Hope you feel better." Ron clapped him on the shoulder and the three of them said their farewells and headed for the door, somewhat reluctantly. Just as they were about to reach the door, Harry remembered something important.

"Hey! Wait! Neville!" The dark-haired boy spun around. "I've got a question about Charms. Can I borrow you for a second?" Ron slapped him on the back and Neville headed back to Harry as Ron and Hermione left together. Harry observed the way the animosity between them had vanished. Extremely stressful and traumatic situations had a tendency to bring people together. How long that would last, however, was up to them.

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be." Neville began, nervously wringing his hands as he walked over. "You probably should have asked Hermione-,"

"Neville." Harry interrupted. "Are you holding up okay?" Harry's voice softened and Neville looked surprised.

"I'm fine. I think it's you who got the worst of it-,"

"No. Not that." Harry said and Neville shot him a questioning look. "Halloween is a hard day for you." Harry added. Realization dawned on his fellow Gryffindor, whose face immediately fell. He stared down at his shoes.

"I-I'm okay. Gran sent me a letter this morning. It's just...the first year I've not gone to see them." Neville admitted. "She laid some flowers down for me, since I couldn't be there."

"I'm sorry, mate." Harry said.

"I mean, I never really knew them. And I don't _feel_ like I did, even though everyone tells me about them. How much I look like my mother. How much I act like my father. And I just...I don't know how to answer them. I don't know how to grieve for people I never knew." Neville met Harry's eyes momentarily. "I didn't even mind not going to see them this year. I _hated_ going to their graves. I _hated_ the way Gran would act. I _hated_ her expecting me to cry. It was always depressing and I always felt worse after going to see them. How can I possibly tell Gran that?" He flicked his eyes back to his shoes and shook his head. "I'm sorry. You didn't need to hear all that."

"No, Neville. It's fine." Neville looked up at Harry. "And I guess...I don't know. This is a decision you have to make. If you wanna tell her that, I totally get why. It sounds depressing as shit. But I mean, she's never really going to get over their deaths. So if you just wanna play along with it, that's okay too."

"Are you saying I should just do what I want?" Neville asked. Harry shrugged.

"You could. Listen, mate. Whatever you choose will have consequences. You gotta think about that."

"What would _you_ do?" Neville wanted to know. Harry shook his head.

"You can't ask me that. I'll never know what it's like. I can't even imagine it." Neville sighed and rubbed his face, frustrated. Honestly, Harry didn't know what he would do. He couldn't imagine living in a world where someone still grieved for his parents. Harry had for a fraction of his life, until he was old enough to begin hating them.

"Thanks anyways, Harry."

"If you wanna talk more about it later, we can." Harry promised. Neville smiled at him.

"Really Harry, thanks for asking me about it. It means a lot to me. Everyone gets so wrapped up in the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing that they kind of forget about all the bad bits."

"Anytime."

XXXX

Harry was supposed to be asleep. Madam Pomfrey had sent him to bed at about 8:30. It was 9:00 now and Harry wanted to get out of there so he'd have time to get to the track.. All the lights in the Wing were off, except for the light peeking out from under Pomfrey's door. Her office connected to her personal quarters.

Harry had pulled on his repaired school uniform and was currently packing a few pillows and blankets into a human-like shape in his bed. He didn't think it would fool Pomfrey if subjected to closer inspection, but in the dark, at a glance? From several feet away? It would hold up, he thought.

He wishes he had a pair of trainers with him, but thankfully, the uniform shoes were thick-soled and bendy enough to substitute. How _long_ they would hold was another story. He'd bought them secondhand, along with his uniform. He hadn't been too broken up at its destruction, but thankful that Madam Pomfrey had fixed it up for further use. He left the stupid sweater vest and tie behind, tossing it onto a nearby bed so Madam Pomfrey wouldn't get suspicious at their absence.

He snuck over to the window and tried to open it. _Locked_. He jiggled the handle slightly, before pulling out his wand.

" _Alohomora_." It popped open. Harry slung one leg over, leaning out and searching for his first few footholds. Thankfully the castle was incredibly ornate, with more than enough ledges and grooves for his small hands to hold onto. He leaned over, placing his foot at the top of a window below him. He gripped the windowsill inside the Hospital Wing and lowered his other leg down. Soon enough, he was out the window, struggling to close it quietly behind him.

Climbing down the castle at night was difficult; it had not been so dark when he'd had detention with Filch. He moved down until he found a good place to hang onto, slipped his wand out, and whispered, " _Lumos._ " He proceeded to place his wand between his teeth, tilting his head down whenever he needed to see something.

Clouds obscured the night sky and it was a little scary feeling the wind whistling between his body and the castle as he found his path downwards. He was constantly wiping his hands on his uniform, trying to keep them from becoming too sweaty, lest he lose his grip.

When he got a story or two away from the ground, he allowed himself a short reprieve, peering down at the ground. It wasn't very far, from Harry's judgement, and he figured if he just jumped and rolled he'd be alright. But he couldn't quite see what covered the ground where he intended to land and didn't know if he wanted to risk a fall onto rocks.

He probably didn't want to risk the race.

 _Fuck it_.

Harry moved down the castle a little bit more before launching himself off the building in a spectacular manner. His feet had barely touched the ground when he set off into a comfortable shoulder roll to lessen the impact, ignoring the splash of water and cool substance smearing across his hair and back.

When he rolled to his feet, he removed his wand from his mouth and peered down at where he'd landed.

He had landed in the middle of a puddle and rolled through the mud, effectively caking his hair in it.

 _Oh come on._

He wiped some off of his face. It could have been worse. He could have landed on the rocks.

He found his way to the Forbidden Forest and racing track with some difficulty; mostly it was just a long walk. He made sure to tread lightly in the forest. Fred and George had been in the forest a million times and had never been attacked, but they had also only been to the racing track and back, a path commonly tread. Harry had never walked this way before and didn't think the Twins had either.

Still, Harry didn't think his night could get any worse after having already been attacked by a troll. It gave him a bit of comfort, thinking it was statistically unlikely he was going to be attacked by two magical creatures in one night.

Regardless, he was watching his step.

He hid his wand light behind his hand. He just needed to see what was in front of him, nothing more. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself in a forest full of dangerous animals.

 _Slurp._

Harry froze.

" _Nox."_ His voice was lower than a whisper, obscured by the wind. The light died instantly.

 _Sluurrp._

Animals didn't drink like that. There'd been a few stray dogs near the orphanage in the whole time Harry had lived there and they lapped at the water, as did most animals. They didn't _slurp_ it.

Harry pressed himself to a particularly large tree, heartbeat speeding up. He peered around the tree, but didn't see anything.

 _Am I going to investigate? I hope not._

 _Slurrrp._

 _Goddamnit._

As much as Harry wanted to make a beeline for the race, he wanted to know what on earth was causing those strange noises. It sounded almost like a person.

Maybe it was a lost first year? They could have gotten off-path while searching for the track and ended up somewhere in the forest. Maybe they were drinking from a puddle or creek.

Hopefully.

If it was a lost first year, Harry wanted to know.

If it was something else...

He still wanted to know.

 _I really do get myself into marvelous little bouts of trouble._

He knew it was a bad idea; that went without saying. But he was still going to do it.

So he began to creep out further, cursing himself for being curious. He did his best to avoid crunching leaves and twigs. He crouched, stepping slowly and lightly.

 _Sluurrp._

It was louder now, but just barely. He followed the noise, crawling amongst the roots of the large trees, steeling himself against them for support whenever a noise surprised him. It was a magical forest, but there were still chipmunks and squirrels darting around, rustling the leaves in the trees. Or maybe they weren't chipmunks and squirrels.

If they weren't, Harry didn't want to know.

The Forbidden Forest was undoubtedly a terrifying place; sometimes, something would dart in the corner of his eye, stirring up the leaves and snapping twigs. It moved at a brilliant pace, but it was much too large to be a squirrel or a rabbit. Harry had absolutely no desire to follow it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was following _him_ , circling him.

Not to mention the occasional blinking eyes he spotted. They were always gone the moment he saw them, but he _knew_ what he had seen. Undoubtedly. Every hair on his body was standing straight up, and it was like a bad horror movie, waiting for the eventual jumpscare.

The forest was oddly quiet, except for the _slurp_ or crackling of twigs. And Harry's own breathing, which sometimes surprised him, sending shivers down his spine until he realized it was just him.

 _At least I haven't heard any creepy children yet_ , Harry reasoned. _Because then this really would be the Blair Witch Project._

As Harry got closer, something flashed in the corner of his eye. He hid himself behind a tree, pressing himself to the trunk. He stiffened.

 _Oh God._

There was something warm and sticky on his back, searing straight through the flimsy material of his wet shirt. He could feel it tugging on the cloth with every breath. His mouth hung open in sudden shock.

 _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit..._

He peeled himself off the tree trunk, on the verge of hysteria.

Dealing with a charging troll that he knew was going to try and kill him right off the bat was one thing.

It was an entirely different feeling to be pulling yourself off of a bloody tree in a forest full of clever things that wanted to eat you.

Harry covered his mouth with his hands when he felt his breathing was too loud, trying to block out any further noises he might make. He turned to the tree trunk, squinting in the dark, searching for the familiar red stain of blood.

 _What?_

Harry reached out, dipping his fingers in the sticky, silvery substance. It was thick and warm, like blood. He rubbed it between his fingers. Sure _felt_ like blood. Maybe a little bit thicker than the initial watery stream of a fresh cut that gushed and dripped with the slightest movement, but all that indicated to Harry was that this came from a pretty goddamn deep wound.

"What the-," He turned to see the silver substance smeared onto a low tree branch, spattering the leaves. What caught his eye in the first place.

 _Sluurrrp._

A chill went down his spine at an entirely new thought. The noise that had been building the dread in the pit of his stomach took a menacing turn.

At the very least, this was not human's blood. No _person_ was hurt. Maybe it was best for Harry to let it be. Come back and investigate in the daylight when he could see where he was fucking going...

And yet-,

"OI! KASINGER? IS THAT YOU?" Harry nearly let out a shriek as his decision was made for him. He heard the distinct noise of a loud curse and twigs snapped as something fled in the shelter of the dark.

"YEAH! I'M HERE!" He called back, heading for the lights flashing not too far off. He sprinted over to Fred and George, glad for the company.

"Merlin, kid. What happened to you?" Angelina asked incredulously. They were all dressed in uniform, despite the fact that only Harry was competing.

"What are you talking about?" He asked.

"You're covered in mud." Alicia pointed out. "And I heard something about a troll?"

"Yeah, I got hit by a troll." Cedric's eyes widened.

" _What?_ "

"What was that like?" Cho asked, interested.

"Like getting hit by a truck."

"Is that a Muggle thing?" Harry nodded as Cedric began fussing over him, brushing the mud out of his hair.

"You don't have to compete tonight, Harry." Cedric said with big eyes. "Maybe you should sit this one out."

"I'm fine." Harry said.

"What happened with the mud?" Fred asked. "You never said."

"I climbed out of the castle and accidentally jumped into a really big puddle." Harry explained. Angelina took out her wand.

"Here, I can clean you off." She cast a cleaning charm, followed up by a drying charm. Harry briefly thought about the silvery substance on the back of his shirt, but was mostly just glad it was gone. "You ready for tonight, kiddo?"

"I mean, there aren't any trolls involved so I'm feeling pretty good about it." Cedric squeezed him tightly.

"You don't have to compete." He reminded him.

"Lay off, Pretty Boy." George said. "Harry's got this one in the bag. Don't you?" Harry grinned and shot them a thumbs up.

"Don't pressure him!" Cedric hissed. The Twins rolled their eyes.

"When did you turn into his mother?" Fred asked.

"When you guys decided to throw a firstie to the wolves."

"Okay, really. I'm fine." Harry insisted.

"You guys treat him like he's our age!" Cedric exclaimed. "He's a kid!"

"Really. I'm okay."

"He can handle it." George insisted. "If we were doing something he wasn't comfortable with, he'd tell us to fuck off."

"You guys can be a strong influence! And he's just a kid!"

"Really. I mean it. I'm fine." Harry said tonelessly. Angelina grabbed Cedric and George, leaning back dramatically.

"You're tearing this family apart!" She cried. Alicia let out a loud snort and Cho laughed into her hand.

"Cedric asking the real questions here." Alicia commented, as Harry pried himself from Cedric's grip.

"Quit coddling me. I'm here to win and if you try to stop me I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll be shitting leather for a week." Harry ordered. The Twins snickered. Cedric looked wounded. Harry patted his arm. "Don't worry, _Mum_. I'll always love you." Cedric sighed and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Go get ready for the race." He said reluctantly.

XXXX

After a quick talk with Daphne that essentially boiled down to _troll? troll,_ the race was ready. They were lined up at the startling line again, smoothly sliding back into schedule, as if the earlier events had never transpired. Harry had to admire the dedication of the racers. Rain or shine, killer troll or no killer troll, the races went on.

Lined up in the sandpit with spotlights glaring down at him, ready to go, tension building as racers shot each other dirty looks, determined to be the one to win the points this time around, it was easy to forget the eerie atmosphere of the Forbidden Forest. It was even difficult to recall the sense of dread that had seemed so consuming at the time. Harry was ready to go back in, determined to find out what was going on, distanced from it.

He would be going back in, no doubt. But first he was going to win the race.

They set off, and instantly, Harry turned the leaves into birds. A loud groan came from the racers as the flock unseated a few students. Harry grinned as he shot out of the cloud. He never had to worry about running out of leaves; they always magically grew back by the time the next race rolled around. Harry burst out of the crowd, wind whipping through his air. He sucked in a deep breath of bird-less air, enjoying the crisp autumn wind.

He veered forward at incredible speeds, avoiding the trees easily. He was more familiar with the terrain this time around, remembering where the trees more. He had noticed he was becoming more and more aware of his surroundings as he trained and raced. Not just during the actual races, but in day to day life. Like a sixth sense.

He had a tendency to get incredibly close to the trees now too, on the off chance he may lead another flyer into them. He weaved through the branches of one, twigs and leaves scraping his head, breaking off and leaving bits in his hair. He cast a large shield behind him that would break upon strong enough impact, but upset quite a few racers when they found it.

A few racers had made it out ahead of Harry. Daphne was one of them, as was Susan Bones, a first year from Hufflepuff. Bones was one hell of a flyer, but she'd had some trouble until she started throwing a few elbows. Harry grinned as he pulled out his wand, aiming it at Daphne. He felt a sense of duty in taking Daphne down, like the race wasn't really a race until they tried to kill each other.

The two girls were really flying; sure, there were other racers, but not like Daphne and Bones, who looked so small in the vast darkness. Daphne's white blonde hair was like a beacon among the cloud-filled sky. Bones and her rusty red hair glimmered in the light of the spells she was trading with the other racers.

" _Aresto momentum._ " Daphne's broom began to slow. She noticed immediately, but tried to push it further. It kept up a decent speed, until the velocity dropped below acceptable standards. Harry blew past her as she slowed to near zero and she cussed him out as he passed.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER." Harry stuck his tongue out. " _DENSAUGEO! DEPRIMO!"_

" _Protego!"_ Harry managed to block the teeth-enlarging one with a quickly shattered shield, but the gust of wind knocked him off course, sending him hurtling towards a tree. The sudden movement blew his hair into his face, obscuring his vision.

" _FUCK!"_ He corrected at the last moment, broom scraping against the tree with an unsettling grinding noise, before pointing his wand straight behind him without even looking, and hissing, " _Deprimo"_ himself. The jet of air propelled him forward and he heard Daphne yelling at him as she picked up speed again.

Harry glanced back for a brief moment, checking on her progress, turning back far too late.

" _Flipendo!"_ Susan Bones caught him squarely in the chest and Harry screamed, hanging onto his broom for dear life as he backflipped through the air. Daphne dodged him and pulled ahead, beginning to trade spells with Bones.

Harry let out a gasp of breath as he slammed into a racer behind him, the shock of impact nearly jolting him off his broom.

" _MERLIN'S BEARD!"_ The muffled yell came from the racer as they both went skidding back. Harry righted himself without even glancing backwards, flattening his body against his broom and zooming forward, propelling himself with the occasional jet of air. He rounded the corner, keeping this up until the front few were in view again. The pace had picked up significantly since the first race; kids were now much more capable of casting while maintaining speed. They still weren't masters of it; but they didn't slow down as much as they once did, able to divide their detention between keeping control of their broom and casting spells. Harry figured that you got thrown off your broom a few times and learned the hard way.

The group shot over the sandpit and several other racers pulled ahead. Harry let them, hanging back. It was better to stay behind most of his opponents until the end; after all, it was much easier to aim from behind them. Harry put a bit of distance between himself and the secondary group, before turning the leaves into birds again, slowing them down.

A quick, " _Immobolus!"_ took care of a racer in front of him, whom Harry proceeded to wield as a weapon, sending the racer's stiff body flying into another. They disappeared off the track, yelling in anger. Since Daphne's fall, the racers had taken to strengthening the protections on their clothing. Even if they fell from this height, they would be okay. There would be no more tree branches impaling students either. The Vipertooths told Harry that something like this happened every year; the Novice racers weren't too keen on basic protection until something horrible and bloody happened and they got a lot more mindful.

Harry breathed in heavily, eyeing the group in front of him. His hair was flattened against his head by sweat and wind. If he was going to do this, he was going to have to be much more precise.

" _Langlock."_ He hissed at someone hanging near the back of the pack. A racer in front of him stiffened, but rather than alert his fellow students to the situation, he simply began to slow down to avoid conflict. Because if they sensed he was handicapped in anyway, they would rip him apart. Harry darted into the treeline before the student had time to look back. He weaved around the trees, watching the group carefully. " _Langlock."_ He whispered again, catching another student. He began to rise above the treeline, peering down at the group. That was two slightly panicking racers down that would be easy to take out. He was counting on their ambition to still win, despite their impediment. " _Langlock."_ Three down, four to go.

Harry waited until they were closer to the sandpit before he acted. In the meantime, dodging trees was proving to be very difficult. The technical path of the race was much wider, but most of it was covered in trees, so his quick jaunt into the woods was totally legal. Most people just didn't want to battle and weave between trees at the same time. Harry was going to make that sacrifice. When they were close to the sandpit, he picked the racer at the front of the pack, which was neither Daphne nor Bones, who were probably biding their time, whispered, " _Impedimenta_ " and watched the fireworks.

Harry didn't know a lot spells. Sure, he knew some, but not like the second years. Not like the purebloods who walked into the school already knowing more magic than some students would ever learn. Daphne could boil his blood in his veins. Even Bones' arsenal dwarfed Harry's like a mountain to a molehill.

He'd been a skinny kid all his life; not a good trait in someone with a tendency to pick fights. He never had the brute strength of the other boys, just like he didn't now. He beat the other kids at Hogwarts in terms of _actual_ strength, but not magical strength, which was where it mattered most.

If he wanted to win, Harry had to get clever. And he liked winning.

The racer in the front screeched to a halt, letting out a startled scream. Two-three-four racers piled up behind him, letting out shouts as they crashed into the poor second year, all of them cartwheeling through the air. Daphne, Bones, and a few others swerved at the last minute, though Harry saw a screaming racer grabbing desperately at the tail end of Bones' broom. She had to shake him off before she got away.

All-in-all, it was a spectacular mess. Harry flew above them comfortably, far above the sandpit. He only ducked down to avoid the mini-air battles, alternating between the high sky and the treeline. They were in the final lap now, and the last few at the front of the pack were Daphne, Bones, and two others, one of whom Harry had _Langlocked_. He was biding his time now, waiting for them to get closer to the sandpit. If he could catch Daphne and Bones right before the end of the third lap, he could pull ahead at the last second and snatch the victory out from under them. The only concern was making sure he caught both of them.

They got closer and closer to the sandpit for the final time; Harry avoiding stray spells falling behind the group of four in front of him. When the sandpit was in sight, he sped up, until he was flying almost directly over them. He seized control of his "sleeper agent", grabbing him with a spell and wielding the boy haphazardly. He rammed him into the nameless racer and Bones, narrowly missing Daphne. The nameless racer was down for the count, but Bones managed to recover to a pretty good speed, though Harry noted that her balance was slightly off. He could use that to his advantage

Narrowing his eyes, Harry pulled into a steep dive, screaming,

" _DEPRIMO!"_ As he got closer. The gust of air hit Bones hard and she shot towards the ground abruptly, clawing at her broom, trying to regain control. Harry grabbed Daphne by the shoulders as he descended, taking the back of her head to his face and an elbow to his gut for his trouble, but holding on nonetheless. He shot towards the ground, shoving Daphne into Bones and running them both into the ground with incredible speed.

"YOU DIRTY BASTARD!" Daphne screamed, limbs flailing. She proceeded to hit both Harry and Bones on accident. Bones was gripping onto Daphne for dear life, trying not to hit the ground. She only succeeded in tearing the blonde girl off her broom, but not before Daphne dug her nails into Harry's neck, leaving thin trails of blood as she was pulled off. They let out shrieks of anger as they hit the ground _hard_ , crunching against the semi-frozen dirt. Harry pushed off from them, exhilarated, barely even able to feel the warm blood dripping down his neck in the face of the cold wind chilling his skin and flattening his hair. He propelled himself forward, a mere few feet from the ground as he shot over the finish line, alone.

The crowd burst into cheers.

XXXX

Harry had never felt more alive. A few hours ago, he'd been chased and nearly killed by a troll. Then, he'd jumped off the side of Hogwarts and traipsed through the Forbidden Forest, before pulling victory right out from under the feet of Bones and Daphne. It had been the best day _ever_.

The Twins and Cedric kept lifting him into the air, whooping and cheering for him amongst the huge crowd. The cries of excitement were almost deafening. People kept coming up to him to congratulate him. Even Daphne, who was responsible for the large amount of blood streaming down his face and neck, came up to slap him on the back as hard as she could and smile at him.

He was so _so_ sore, even his cheeks, but he couldn't stop smiling, basking in the enthusiasm of the crowd. Of his _friends_.

It felt _wonderful_.

XXXX

Sneaking back into the castle was significantly easier than getting out. Harry simply flew his broom up to Gryffindor tower and climbed through the window into his room. He was having a hard time getting his broomstick through the window, though. The end always seemed to catch on _something._

He was just pulling it through the window when he stumbled backwards, tripping over a stray textbook and landing hard on his tailbone with a _thump_.

" _Who the fuck left-,_ " Harry cut himself off and climbed to his feet, rubbing his tailbone. He checked to make sure everyone was still asleep when he found himself staring directly into Ron's eyes.

The two of them blinked at each other, unsure of what to say.

 _I can explain_ , was Harry's first thought, but he didn't say it.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the Hospital Wing?" Was what Ron finally asked. Harry felt his eyes go wide.

"Oh crap." Ron nodded at him.

"You'd better go." Harry shoved his broom through the window and jumped out onto it with another word, taking off for the Hospital Wing window.

And naturally, Madam Pomfrey was waiting for him.

He'd just climbed in through the window when he turned to face her, nearly jumping out of his skin. She was standing expectantly by his bed, the covers pulled back to reveal the mass of pillows and blankets jammed into a vaguely human shape. Her arms were crossed and a single eyebrow raised.

"I can explain?" He squeaked out.

"Your broom tells me everything I need to know, Mr. Kasinger." She stared him down and Harry tried to wrap his head around what she'd just said.

 _Does that mean she knows about Broom Racing?_

 _Wait, that would mean she was-_

"While I must admire your skill with-," She waved at the mass. "-, _this_ , I have not been the matron of the Hogwarts Infirmary for this many years without seeing some very spectacular attempts." Harry cringed. "I _hope_ you did not damage yourself, for your _own_ sake." She said menacingly.

"No, I'm, um, okay."

"Go to bed, Mr. Kasinger. It's past eleven." She ordered. Harry quickly shoved his broom underneath his bed and climbed in, tossing the surplus blankets and pillows to a nearby one. She watched him, to make sure he was officially in bed, before locking the window. She headed back to her office, but stopped right at the door. "The one thing I don't understand is how you got _out_ of the castle." She confessed. Harry smiled back, refusing to say anything more.

XXXX

"Hey, Neville." Harry began absently, sitting on his bed, staring at the canopy of red and gold fabric. They had stopped by their dorm to drop off their books before lunch, planning to meet Ron down in the Great Hall.

"Yeah?" Neville poked his head out of the bathroom, rubbing his face with a washcloth.

"Y'know, you never told me where you found the adults." Neville blinked.

"Oh, I found them on the stairs, already heading upstairs. Guess they figured out pretty quick that the troll got away from them."

"Huh." Harry knew something suspicious was going on - he was going to have to draw out a timeline for this.

"Why do you ask?" Neville asked curiously. "Is something going on?" Harry decided to go with the truth.

"Maybe. It might have to do with the third floor corridor." Harry said. "Was Snape or Quirrell with them?" Neville jolted a little bit, eyes going wide.

"No, they weren't. Do you think that means something?"

"It might. It might not." Harry said. Neville looked nervous as Harry met his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Neville. It might be nothing. It might be something. I'm just...curious."

"You're not going to do anything dangerous, are you?" Neville worried, chewing on his lip. Harry made a wide gesture.

"Neville!" He scoffed. "Do you really think I would do something dangerous?"

"Yes."

"Okay, yeah, probably. But don't worry about it. I'm just looking into it. I won't do anything until I have a better idea of what's going on."

"Will you tell me? When you find out?"

"Of course." Harry promised. "Now, let's just go to lunch before Ron eats everything."

XXXX

"I can't _believe_ you _fought_ a _troll_." Blaise said, staring at Harry. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"All my teachers said I was too impulsive on my grade reports, among other things."

"No shit!" Blaise was practically twitching. "How are you not _dead_?"

"Magic." Harry fought a smile.

"I'm going to _hit_ you."

"I actually have a question, by the way." They were finally back at the Old Astronomy Tower. Harry had been fairly busy with races, while Blaise had been trying to make Malfoy less of an insufferable twit. "How are things going with Malfoy?" Harry could see Blaise grinding his teeth.

"Slowly." Harry decided not to press him on the subject.

"Okay, but on Halloween, who took the Slytherins down into the dungeons?" Blaise tilted his head at him.

"That is...an oddly specific question."

"Humor me. It'll make sense soon."

"Dunno. A few teachers. McGonagall. Flitwick. Sprout."

"But not Snape?" Blaise seemed taken aback. He paused to consider.

"No." He realized. "He wasn't there." Blaise shifted back, placing his hands against the ground. "He's...walking with a limp now." Blaise added. "Do you think he went up to the third floor corridor? And got attacked?"

"I didn't know for sure, but the third floor corridor and now all this is very suspicious." Harry hadn't even mentioned the sticky silver blood he'd found in the woods. "And the limp doesn't make it look good for him. And y'know, Neville told me that the teachers were already heading upstairs when the troll was released. Which is weird, especially when the troll was supposed to be in the dungeons."

"You think they were heading up to the third floor corridor too?" Blaise asked. Harry nodded. "It would make sense; we already know something of value is being hidden there. Maybe they figured out that the troll was a distraction and went to check on it as soon as they had the chance." Harry blinked.

"Then why did Snape head up early? You don't think he's trying to steal it, do you?"

"I doubt it." Blaise said thoughtfully. "But I wouldn't rule it out completely. Snape used to be a Death Eater."

"One of Voldemort's people?" Harry asked, surprised. Blaise jolted at the usage of the name. Harry had heard some of the Gryffindors call Snape a Death Eater, but had thought it was all just wild speculation. After all, there was no way a traditionally Light wizard like Dumbledore would let a known Death Eater work in the school, no matter what kind of deal he struck, right?

"Yeah. He was supposed to be a spy for Voldemort, but some people think he switched sides at the end, became a spy for Dumbledore."

"If he was a spy for Dumbledore, how come the Longbottoms got killed still?" Blaise shrugged.

"Guess he wasn't a spy for Dumbledore after all. Either way, Dumbledore's got something on him. There's no other reason he'd be here. Maybe it has something to do with the other family Voldemort killed?" Blaise asked himself.

"What other family?" The pureblood boy waved his hand dismissively.

"There was another family attacked the same night. The Potters or something. Old Light family. The guy married a Muggleborn. Kid survived, I think, though I don't really know what happened to him. Guess he turned out to be a Squib, otherwise he'd be at Hogwarts with us. Or maybe he went to a different school. Either way, it's not important. Just that Dumbledore's got something on Snape to keep him here, when the guy clearly hates his job."

"I thought he liked the Slytherins?" Blaise shrugged again.

"He likes the Slytherins well enough, but we only make up 1/4 of the school. Maybe less. Hogwarts doesn't pay _that_ well."

"So maybe Snape wants whatever Dumbledore's hiding so he can use it as leverage to get out of here." Harry suggested.

"Not likely," Blaise said. "Considering Snape has helped Dumbledore with much more delicate matters before and probably is a fountain of wealth to blackmail the old man with,"

"-, but not completely out of the realm of possibility." Harry finished. "What about Quirrell though?"

"What about him?"

"So the guy shows up this year, apparently _incredibly_ different than he was before, and I mean like a completely different person. He's not religious or associates with any culture besides _English_ , but he's got a turban he won't take off, a weird stutter, and an obsession with garlic, and all of a sudden there's a Cerberus in the school, an escaped troll is wandering around, and all kinds of crazy shit is going on that never happened in previous years. That's not a coincidence."

"Wait, go back." Harry blinked.

"Quirrell is suspicious?" Blaise shook his head.

"Did you say _escaped troll_?"

"Yeeeees?" Harry cocked his head to the side. "What about it?"

"Where did the troll escape from?" Blaise said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You said it yourself; how did the troll get into the school? The protections on the school are _old_. A student couldn't get a troll through if they tried. What if the troll was already inside the school? Why a Cerberus, but not a troll?"

"You think the troll was security for the third floor corridor?" Blaise nodded.

"Mountain trolls have been used as guard dogs before. They're magic resistant and strong. Not something your average wizard can deal with easily."

"Still, that leaves the question of how it got out. It's not like the Cerberus can get out or that the troll can sneak past the Cerberus from inside the room."

"Someone let it out. Someone who already knows about the third floor corridor." Blaise stated. "That's the only way it could have gotten out."

"Unless someone was breaking _in_ to get it." Harry pointed out. "It would explain why the professors ran up to check on the third floor. Maybe they thought someone got past the defenses and accidentally let the troll loose?" Blaise considered this.

"What about Quirrell then? Was he breaking in and didn't expect the troll?"

"But he's a staff member, right? I can't imagine that they don't all know. That Dumbledore just said, "Don't go to the third floor corridor" and that was it." Harry said. No teacher in their right mind would just leave it at that. "So he must have already known about the troll. Did he release it on purpose then? As a distraction? So he could double back and have some time to get through the Cerberus?"

"Wait." Blaise rubbed his forehead. "You were going to say something earlier. About Quirrell. What were you going to say?" Harry thought for a moment before he remembered.

"Oh! Yeah. Where did Quirrell go?" Blaise blinked.

"What?"

"I mean, where did he go? Where was he the whole time? Snape got to the third floor corridor first; if Quirrell was doubling back, Snape would have caught him. And Quirrell wasn't with any of the other teachers. He fell pretty hard. Might have even had a concussion. But he wasn't with Madam Pomfrey, either. He wasn't in the Hospital Wing, and after the fainting, regardless of whether or not he had a concussion, Pomfrey would have kept him overnight. A concussion can be a tricky bitch and so can shock, and he was definitely in shock, or doing a damn good job faking it."

"There is no one who can account for Quirrell's whereabouts, except for maybe Snape, and he wouldn't answer even if I was willing to ask." Harry finished. "But I mean, this isn't the first suspicious thing about Quirrell. The other teachers _must_ know there's something up with him."

"Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way." Blaise reasoned. "Maybe it's not meant to be security. Maybe it's a trap." As a defense system, it sucked. As a trap, it wasn't half bad. Except for the fact that it was in the middle of a _school_.

"Pretty shitty place for one." But now Harry was thinking of the all too human _slurping_ in the woods. _A trap for_ that? Harry was _going_ to take another look into the woods. The question was whether or not to tell Blaise. He wasn't sure if he wanted to drag Blaise out into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night, ask him to risk his _perfect_ record and his life.

But then again, Blaise might know what that strange silver substance was. And if he didn't, he'd definitely find out.

"I was out in the Forbidden Forest the other night-," Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Of course you were." He muttered.

"I found some blood. Or I think it was."

"In a magical forest full of dangerous animals. Give the boy a medal."

"It was silver." Blaise suddenly straightened up. "And there was a lot of it. There was something in the woods. Something human. Ish. Drinking." Harry made a so-so motion with his hands.

"Sounds like unicorn blood." Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at Daphne's familiar voice. He spun around to see her leaning against the little door, a few steps down the staircase. She had one skinny leg popped out, the uniform skirt laughably long and dowdy. "Was it thick? Maybe a little bit more so than human blood?"

"Yes." Harry said, blinking. "How long have you listening?"

"The entire time. Nice place you got up here." She gestured around the Old Astronomy Tower. "I just assumed the door was locked."

"Not well." Blaise answered, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" Harry whipped around to stare at Blaise. It was the kind of venomous tone he'd never heard from Blaise before.

"Calm down, Zabini." She smirked at him. "Kasinger and I are friends." Blaise stared at Harry.

"You're friends with _her_?"

"Is there some weird pureblood alignment thing going on?" Harry asked in flat tone.

"The Greengrasses and the Zabinis don't get along, and let's just leave it at that." Blaise said, glaring at Daphne.

"Why not?"

"Why don't you tell your little friend?" Daphne asked, cocking her head to the side. "About your bitch black widow mother?" Blaise actually _growled_.

"Okay, let's not bring people's mothers into this."

"How about we talk about your whore father? The dirty bastard who can't keep it in his pants and fucks every woman he meets? And your mom? It'd be a fucking miracle if you're actually a Greengrass and not some bastard bitch."

" _Whoa_ , whoa, whoa. Let's not bring parents into this at _all_."

"Oh, I'm a Greengrass. Don't you worry your pretty little head." Daphne tossed her hair. "In fact, I'm the _only_ viable Greengrass heir. Who even knows about you?" Blaise opened his mouth, but Harry interrupted first.

"LET'S GIVE IT A REST, ALRIGHT?" Blaise shot Harry a dirty look.

"Can't _believe_ you didn't tell me about her."

"Blaise, give it a rest." Harry turned to Daphne. "What were you saying? About the _unicorn blood_." Harry gave her a pointed look.

"Sounds like unicorn blood, what you found. You said you heard someone drinking? Drinking unicorn blood?"

"I don't know. I didn't get a chance to look. But I had a bad feeling about it." Harry admitted.

"They say you can drink unicorn blood to stay alive. But the act of slaying it means you'll live a cursed life."

"Whatever that means." Daphne shrugged.

"Old magic get pretty fucked up and the effects of slaying a unicorn are well documented. Things happen to the drinker. Spiritually, physically, magically. Whatever was in that woods, human _ish_ is probably the right term."

"What does that have to do with Quirrell and all this?" Blaise asked. Harry was struck by a strange thought.

"I think...I think the thing in the woods _was_ Quirrell." Blaise opened his mouth, but Harry spoke quickly. "I mean, if there were regular unicorn deaths around Hogwarts, wouldn't someone have said something earlier?"

"But they didn't start until Quirrell showed up this year." Daphne said, eyes widening.

"And the trap, the Cerberus, the troll, all that. Not until this year. Not until Quirrell showed up. As much as I would _love_ to pin this on Snape, it wouldn't make sense otherwise."

"There's only one way to be sure." Daphne said.

"We've gotta go check it out ourselves." Harry agreed. Blaise sighed.

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"You don't need to come." Harry insisted. "Neither of you. It's going to be dangerous. If Quirrell is killing unicorns, I don't think he'd hesitate to try and kill us."

"And you want to take him _on_?" Blaise asked incredulously. "By yourself?"

"I'll be okay. I'll be stealthy." Harry said.

"You couldn't be stealthy if your life depended on it." Blaise said. _Actually_ , Harry thought. "I'm not leaving you there alone. I'm coming with."

"You're going to need another _real_ fighter." Daphne said. "I'm coming with you too."

"You don't have to do this for me."

"Oh, shut up, Kasinger." Daphne sniffed. "I'm doing this because I want to know who it is out there."

"And if you can fight a troll, surely I can pull my weight too."

"So then it's settled." Daphne said. "How about we head out tomorrow night? 10:00?"

"I feel like I have less choice in this than I should."

"You'll be fine." Daphne said.

"Just as long as you and Blaise don't tear each other apart first."

XXXX

Hope you guys enjoyed! So Broom Racing is gonna get super intense from here on out; they only have a few months to fit in a _ton_ of races. I was really just waiting to get to the troll, honestly, to develop a lot of things. That's when things really get set into motion.

And not to give away the game too early on, but I really felt like it wasn't so hard to pick out Quirrell as the Big Bad for Hogwarts. I mean, come on. All this weird shit is happening that has never happened before and there is only _one_ new teacher.

Now, the kids just have to deal with the thing in the woods and getting anybody to believe them. Of course, what's in the trap too.

I'm hoping to speed things up a bit. As much as I'd like to have a 150,000 word first year, that's a bit outlandish. This will _definitely_ be longer than the Philosopher's Stone though, but I'm hoping not by too much. If I cover every year, that's going to be about 600,000-700,000 words _at least_. I'm already approaching novel length.

 _Jesus_.

Of course, I plan to do it. Buckle up; this is going to be a long-ass ride.

Naturally. Might split this up into several fanfics though, one for each year. Not sure yet. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it and I'll see how you guys feel about it.

Thanks for reading! As always, leave a review on your way out! They are always loved and always appreciated. I've got big, big things planned for Fortune Favors the Bold and I want you along for the ride.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys! I'm finally back with a new chapter!

I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update, but life has gotten in the way completely. It's been nonstop work since then, but I kind of knew it was. I just thought I would have some actual time around Thanksgiving, but I most certainly did not.

So I'm very sorry about that.

Updates aren't going to be very frequent at all for a long time. I have no kind of schedule and no idea when I'll find time. This story is definitely _not_ abandoned though, even if there aren't updates for a long time.

This chapter itself isn't super long either, unfortunately, but the next few should be, whenever they come. I want to get one more chapter about before the end of this week, but there's no guarantee.

Thanks for staying with me guys, and I hope you enjoy!

XXXX

"This is such a stupid idea." Blaise whispered, clinging to a tree as he climbed precariously over the roots.

"You could have backed out at any time." Harry answered.

"I know. I just thought I'd put that out there." Harry twisted back to see Blaise shrug.

"Are you sure you're not _scared_?" Daphne said, voice dripping with glee.

"I don't know, are you sure you don't need me to hold your hand?" Blaise snapped back. "Wouldn't want a little girl getting lost in the woods, now would we?" Daphne was about to retort, but Harry beat them to the punch.

"Both of you, shut up!" He hissed. "If you can't be civil, so help me, I will turn this party around and we will go back to the castle. Afterwards, I will come out here by myself, finish this shit up, and you two can sit inside and diddle yourselves while you wait."

" _Diddle ourselves?_ "

"SH!" Harry was guarding the soft light of his wand behind his hand. He didn't want to scare Quirrell away.

"How long is this going to take anyways?" Blaise grumbled.

"I dunno. We've been out here for _maybe_ an hour." Harry responded. "This might take some time."

"Can't we just like, I dunno, use a locator spell or something?" Harry rolled his eyes.

" _Siri, find Unicorn-killer._ " Harry could practically hear the frown in his companions' voices.

"What's Siri?" They asked in unison.

"Never mind."

The forest was adequately creepy when Harry had been alone, but he found he didn't mind it so much. It wasn't scary as long as Harry could hear Blaise complaining in the background, hurling insults willy-nilly under his breath.

Sure, the way the trees seemed to bend menacingly over them and the sensation of eyes watching them never really went away. Harry still found himself tripping over gnarled, twisted roots, pausing mid-step at blinking yellow eyes tracking his movements. All until Blaise or Daphne bowled him over from behind, complaining almost too loudly.

"Can we stop for like a second?" Blaise hissed. Harry rolled his eyes as he spun around.

"What's the matter now?" Blaise was leaning against a tree, feet stuck firmly to the ground. His shoes were completely encased in mud and he was slowly sinking into it. Blaise pulled one leg, yanking the shoe out of the mud with a loud squelching noise. He started scraping his shoe against some exposed roots, trying to get the mud off. He did the same to the other.

"Better?" Harry asked. Blaise huffed.

"Better." He lurched off the tree, climbing up and over some tree roots.

"Zabini, stop."

" _What_?" Harry looked at Daphne. Her expression had previously been that of slightly amused, but she had now schooled her face into a grim expression. Her mouth was a thin line. She pointed at Blaise's back.

"Look." Harry took a step back, peering over.

 _Oh._

Thick globs of unicorn blood were smeared over Blaise's back. So big that Harry wondered how Blaise didn't feel them soaking through his shirt. Harry glanced back to the tree the dark-skinned boy had been leaning on. More blood.

"Shit." Harry whispered. He scraped some of the blood off of Blaise's back and held his hand out to the boy. It glimmered in the gentle glow of their wands. Harry saw Blaise's eyes widen. He held a single finger to his lips, to indicate the need for silence and Blaise nodded grimly.

" _Nox_." Daphne put out her wand light and pulled her goggles up from around her neck. They were her racing goggles, charmed to see in the dark. Harry did the same putting out his wand, and Blaise followed with his own makeshift pair.

"Masks up." Harry hissed, pulling the cloth up from around his neck and tightening it around the lower half of his face. If it really was Quirrell in the woods, Harry didn't think they wanted to be recognized. Daphne pulled her hood up over her all too recognizable hair.

Harry led them through the woods, wand at the ready, shield spell on his lips at any given moment. They tread carefully, searching for sudden movements, suspicious noises. Anything out of the ordinary. The glimmer of blood.

 _SLUUURRP_

An involuntary tremor of terror ran through him and Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He didn't need to turn around to know the looks of fear plastered across the faces of his friends. He turned slightly to check up on them, and knew almost instantly that they wanted to go back.

"You can go." His voice was below a whisper. He knew they wanted to. He could see it in their posture, their shaking hands.

 _SLUUURRP_

They wanted to leave and Harry didn't blame them.

The hooded figure that was Daphne shook her head, gripping her wand tightly and raising it. Blaise shook his head, and gestured for Harry to keep moving. Harry shrugged and turned back around.

 _Well, alright then._

Further into the woods they went.

The trail of silver blood was getting thicker now, with the silvery globs leading them down a path. One, after the other. At first, they were just little drops, little flecks. But soon enough they became thick and smeared, a trail leading the three of them on their way. As they got closer, they slurping got louder, and Harry could hear the heavy breathing of what sounded like a man behind it.

The three of them crept behind trees now, eyes constantly scanning the forest.

Harry was walking along the muddy roots, hands reaching out to touch the long, silvery smear of blood along it. He barely grazed it with the tip of his fingers, but it was still fresh. When he pulled his hand away, it didn't look like blood at all, just a light coat on his fingertips.

 _Fu-!_

Daphne had grabbed Harry from behind, yanking on his sweatshirt and pulling him up and over the straggling roots of a large trunk. Harry stumbled and started to go down, but Daphne was apparently much stronger than Harry had given her credit for. She hauled him to his feet and tucked him against a tree trunk. She grabbed the hood to his Muggle sweatshirt and yanked it on over his head. Harry watched as Blaise, hidden behind a second tree, pulled the hood to his cloak up.

Harry glanced back at Daphne, who motioned around the tree. Harry planted himself against it and peered ever so slowly around. Off in the distance, maybe thirty feet away, Harry saw a hooded figure bent over the corpse of a unicorn, mouth latched onto its wide neck as silver blood spilled down the tiny hill.

 _Oh, shit._

Blaise darted over to their tree while the figure was preoccupied, and Daphne motioned for them to swing out and around.

"We can sneak up on him." She whispered. And stay out of sight the entire time. Harry nodded. She continued to motion. Blaise was the one who got it first.

"You want us to split up?" He asked incredulously, and Daphne clamped a hand over his mouth, shushing him.

"Hadrian can come at him from one side, do whatever it is he does, and you and me cut the motherfucker off, in case he tries to escape."

"He's going to try and _kill_ us!"

"This sounds risky." Harry whispered. Harry couldn't actually _see_ Daphne's eyes, but she was rolling them. He just knew it.

"You'll get the jump on him, I'm sure." She put her hands on her hips. "But if you don't or he somehow slips away, none of us can keep up with some psycho hopped up on unicorn blood. He'll get away if no one is there to head him off."

"What if he doesn't run?" Blaise hissed. "What if he turns around and kills Harry?"

"He won't."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do. He's trying to keep a low profile. Dangerous shit happens at Hogwarts, but if he kills three students, or even _one_ , he's down and out of luck. _They will find him_." Daphne sniffed. "Or at least my parents would."

"Ugh." Blaise scrunched his nose up.

"You're...right." Harry said slowly. He didn't want to split up, but Daphne was right.

"Harry, you're being a fucking idiot."

"No, but she's right. He's not going to kill us. We should split up. I'll head around the left, you guys head around the right. Wait until I get him to come out. I'll give you guys five minutes to get in position." _That should be more than enough time_ , Harry thought. He just didn't want to get there before they did.

"You're all fucking _idiots_." Blaise spat, and turned around, marching away. "Are you coming, you crazy _bitch_?"

"I love you too, Zabini." Daphne departed with a barely audible _good luck_ and followed Blaise off into the darkness.

Harry checked up on their target once again, to make sure he hadn't moved, before sneaking off. He crept along, out of sight, occasionally crouching down into the ditches between the trees, checking up on the hooded figure. The figure was still adamantly glued to the neck of the unicorn, not a care in the world.

The closer Harry got to the figure, the harder his heart pounded. He was so close, close enough to see the fraying fabric of the cloak, the bumps on the back of the hooded head, the long white fingers itching against the neck of the unicorn. His legs were tingling, with the same kind of anticipation as when he was at a high place and thinking that he could just jump. He didn't want to, but he could.

Harry closed his eyes.

 _3...2...1-!_

He lunged out at the hooded figure soundlessly, springing over him. The figure startled, trying to stand up, but Harry landed on top of him, wrestling him to the ground, wand still in hand.

The figure let out an inhuman shriek, struggling, but Harry was a pretty stout kid and he had that motherfucker's arms pinned with his knees. The figure let out a strange, muffled yell as the back of his head crunched against the ground. Harry yanked the hood off, and found himself staring directly into Quirrell's eyes. He stared at the strangely bare head. Huh. He wasn't wearing his turban?

"GET OFF!" Quirrell shrieked, silver coating his lips and dripping down his jaw. Harry balled his hand into a fist and punched him in the face. Quirrell let out a ghastly wail, struggling underneath Harry. " _FLIPENDO!_ "

Harry grunted as he went flying off of Quirrell, sending leaves scattering upon his landing. Quirrell struggled to his feet, stumbling away.

"GET HIM!" Harry yelled, rolling back over and springing up in a way only a kid can. He chased after Quirrell who was fleeing through the forest, hood caught on the top of his head so it had yet to slip off. His cloak billowed behind him, getting caught on numerous trees. However, the man just kept running panickedly, gripping the edges and tearing it away in an instant.

Daphne had been right; there was no way Harry could keep up with him while he was hopped up on unicorn blood. He was going to get away.

That was, until, Daphne stepped out from behind a tree and with a loud,

" _HI-YA!"_ , kicked him between the legs so hard that Quirrell couldn't even scream. He just whimpered and sank to his knees, clutching himself.

"Holy _shit_!" Blaise shouted from behind a tree as tears ran down Quirrell's cheeks. Harry almost doubled over laughing.

" _GET UP, YOU FOOL!_ " A high-pitched, sinister voice broke the air and they all went still. "I said, _GET UP!_ " Quirrell whimpered and then all of a sudden Daphne was springing out of the way as colored lights went flying and the tree next to her splintered as she dove behind it and she was crying out as Quirrell nailed her in the shoulder, struggling to his feet. Harry tried to help, tried to throw a few spells of his own but Quirrell spun around faster than Harry could ever have imagined and there were spells ripping up the dirt where Harry stood as he ran lightning crackling in the air and then Quirrell was running away and Harry was sure he'd twisted his ankle but it felt more like Quirrell had shoved a lightning bolt through it-

-and there was a green light heading for him but Blaise's body collided with Harry's at the last second and he was smacking his head against a root and Harry could only see the edge of Quirrell's cloak as he ran way-

-and then he was shoving Blaise off of him, sprinting after Quirrell, burning pain in his ankle, but he caught the back of Quirrell's cloak and they tumbled down into a ditch, lights still flying from Quirrell's wand that had Blaise and Daphne plastered to the ground, afraid and hoping it would end-

-and then the ditch was a flurry of elbows and legs and Harry was on top of Quirrell, grabbing at anything, looking for purchase and somewhere in the middle of it he pulled the cloak off of the back of Quirrell's head and

 _screamed_.

XXXX

Harry woke up still lying in the ditch, the faces of his friends swimming over him.

"Nggghh..."

"He's fine." He heard Daphne say.

"Fuck you too..." He muttered, rolling onto his side. He slowly climbed to his feet. "What happened?"

"You got knocked out." Blaise said flatly. "You _idiot_." Harry rubbed his forehead, spinning around to look at the damage Quirrell had caused to the forest. In the short path Quirrell had taken, roots and trees were torn up, off kilter, leaves burnt, trunks singed. Several lay on the ground, smashed to pieces despite the vast and impressive nature of them. The ground was almost completely churned up and the smell of ozone still laid heavily over them, scorch marks marking Quirrell's path. It was still dark out, and Harry was wondering what kind of wreckage they would see during the day.

The forest was quieter than it had ever been.

" _Jesus_." Harry said to himself.

"I suppose that's what an adult wizard can do." Daphne said, perched on the edge of the ditch. "I never really knew." Harry leaned against the wall of the ditch, wincing at the twinge of pain in his ankle.

"You're fine." Blaise said. "Just twisted your ankle."

"You screamed before you passed out. What the fuck was that about?" Daphne asked. Harry thought for a moment.

And then it hit him.

" _HOLY FUCK!"_ He shouted, scrambling out of the ditch.

"What?!" Blaise jerked back. Harry gesticulated wildly.

"He had a face! On the back of his face!"

" _What?_ " Daphne said incredulously. "I have no fucking clue what you're saying, Kasinger."

"It was a face!" Harry yelled. "It spat at me! It was a face!"

"Are you telling us that Quirrell had a _face_ on the back of his _head_?" Harry nodded furiously. He felt like he was losing his mind. He tugged at his hair.

"Yes!"

"You do realize what you sound like, right?" Blaise said.

"He had a fucking face on the back of his head!"

"Was it _his_ face?" Blaise asked cautiously. Daphne scrunched up her nose.

"What does that matter?"

"Just answer the question."

"No it was like...It was a different face."

"A human face?" Harry nodded again.

"But it kind of looked like a snake to me? I don't know. It was a human face though. It was...creepy."

"Did it talk earlier, or did I imagine that?" Daphne asked suddenly. Harry nodded frantically.

"I heard it too."

"Maybe that's why he wears the turban all the time?" Blaise murmured to himself. Harry let out a groan and scrubbed at his own face.

"I have to ask, is this normal? Is this a normal wizard thing? Having a second face on the back of your face? Another thing that the prefects neglected to tell this poor little Mudblood about? Am I missing something?"

"No." Daphne said. "It's not normal."

"Oh thank God." Harry closed his eyes. "This is so much more fucked up than I thought it was going to be."

"Hm?"

"Well, for starters, we have a fucking _unicorn corpse_ right here." Harry gestured at the poor creature lying prostrate between a few trees. "And then this motherfucker has a face on the back of his head!" Daphne sighed.

"I suppose it's a good thing we didn't catch him in the end." Daphne said. "I don't know what we would have done with him." Harry sat down on the edge of the ditch and buried his face in his hands, sighing.

"What do we do now?" He asked, voice muffled.

"We go back to the castle, shower up, and then we talk about it tomorrow." Blaise said authoritatively. "I don't think we're going to come up with any brilliant plan of action tonight." Harry dragged his hands down his face and looked up at Blaise, nodding. "Oh, and it probably goes without saying, but we can't tell anyone about this. Not until we decide what we're going to do."

XXXX

Harry was a bit shocked, needless to say. Obviously, the introduction of a completely secret magical world opened the door to _many_ possibilities. Harry had been prepared for things to get _weird._

Just not _that_ weird.

He hadn't been prepared for a guy with a face on the back of his face! Was that so wrong?

"Are you alright?" Neville asked Harry in the morning. "You don't look alright."

"I...had a weird dream." Harry answered. "I mean, more like a nightmare, it was just really surreal." Concern filled Neville's eyes.

"Oh. Do you want to talk about it? Are you okay?" Harry shook his head.

"I'm fine. Just feeling a little weird." Neville nodded understandingly.

"Hey, listen, Ron, Hermione and I were going to meet up in the library after lunch. Snape assigned that huge paper and we figured we could work on it during our free period. Do you want to come?"

"Ron? Studying?" Harry asked suspiciously. Neville smiled bashfully.

"I mean, Hermione and I will be working on the paper and Ron will be eating. Would you like to join us?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I just have to meet up with someone first. Can I meet you guys there, a little late?" Neville nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! We're probably going to grab one of the tables by the windows, y'know, the ones hidden from Madam Pince?"

"Yeah, I know the ones." Neville smiled cheerfully.

"I'm sure it'll be a lot of fun!"

XXXX

"You look less than alright." Blaise observed as Harry took his seat in Transfiguration.

"I feel less than alright." Harry yawned back. Blaise snorted as Hermione passed out the mice they were to turn into snuff boxes. She smiled shyly at Harry as she gave him his mouse. Once she'd gone, Blaise knocked his shoulder against Harry's.

"I see that went well." Harry shrugged.

"How's it going with Malfoy?" Blaise made a so-so motion with his hand and Harry narrowed his eyes.

"You haven't done much, have you?" Blaise snickered. "Oh, come on!" The mouse squeaked as Harry smacked his palm down on the table.

"Oh, I tried, alright? But that little bastard isn't about to make any improvements until you do something like you did with Daphne."

Harry was _not_ about to go risk his life with Malfoy, or risk his life _for_ Malfoy.

"That's not going to happen." Harry said tightly. "Please, can't you do something?" He whined to Blaise, who shrugged.

"Don't you two get along, anyways?"

"I wouldn't say we _get along_ , just that we've...reached an _agreement_."

"See? Isn't that progress?"

"No." Blaise shrugged again.

"Well, I tried." Harry scowled, stroking the ears of his mouse while kids started to work. He looked down at his own mouse.

"Do you ever think animal transfiguration is cruel?"

"Haven't really thought about it. Dunno." The mouse looked up at Harry with his big eyes, begging Harry not to turn him into a snuff box.

"Sorry, buddy. I'll turn you back, I promise." The mouse squeaked.

"Oh, no. You're one of those people that thinks mice are _cute_." Harry held his mouse close to his chest.

"I'm going to call him Algernon." Harry announced. Blaise groaned.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry. _They're pests._ "

"They are cute!" Harry defended Algernon. "Besides, they don't harm anyone. Rats are the nasty ones, usually." Blaise narrowed his eyes.

"They are vectors of filth and disease."

"You leave Algernon alone. I'm sure he's a very clean mouse."

" _Oh my god._ " Blaise worked on his own mouse while Harry played with Algernon on the table. He really didn't want to turn him into a snuff box. He couldn't shake the concern that it might hurt the little guy. It was one thing turning an inanimate object into an animal, a very different to turn an animal into an inanimate object.

"Thanks, by the way." Harry said.

"Thanks for what?"

"Saving my life." Harry said quietly. Blaise shifted in his seat.

"I didn't-,"

"Yeah, you did. He would have killed me. That's what that green light was, wasn't it? You saved me."

"I...couldn't be sure. I don't know what that green light was, not for certain."

"Yeah." Harry said. "You do. Or you wouldn't have reacted like you did if you didn't recognize it. If you didn't _know_." Blaise sat silently. "Thank you, Blaise."

They sat quietly together, other than the occasional squeak of the mouse. Until McGonagall came over and yelled at Harry for not getting to work.

XXXX

"But Professor, how do you _know_ it doesn't hurt Algernon?" Harry protested, even as the class filtered out through the door. McGonagall smacked herself in the forehead.

"You _named it?_!" She shrieked.

"I could kill him." Harry protested. "This is animal cruelty!"

"It. Does. Not. Hurt. The. Mouse." She said sternly.

"How would you know? You've never been turned into a snuff box." McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Tomorrow, you will turn a mouse into a snuff box. I don't care if you have to stay for the next five _hours_. You will turn your mouse into a snuff box. I will provide you a different mouse, if you really cannot bring yourself to hurt _Algernon_. But you _will_ turn your mouse into a snuff box. Understand me?"

"Yes, Professor." Harry grinned.

"Dismissed!" She barked.

He scampered out, catching up to his fellow Gryffindors.

"Does it really hurt the mouse?" Hermione asked worriedly, chewing her lip, eyes wide. Harry snickered and shook his head.

"No, it doesn't."

"Oh, thank god." She was visibly relieved. "I couldn't help but wonder the entire time."

 _Squeak!_

"Did your pocket just squeak?" Ron asked Harry, trying to peer in. Harry reached in and took out Algernon.

"I wasn't going to _leave_ him there." He offered the little guy to Hermione, who stroked him.

"I'd be careful with him, mate. If an owl sees him, they'll go straight in for the kill."

"Or a cat, for that matter." Neville added. "You might even want to hide him from Ron's rat."

"Scabbers isn't aggressive!" Ron protested. "He would know not to hurt Algernon!"

"He's a _rat_ , Ronald."

"He's smart!" Harry waved his hand.

"I'll be careful." Harry promised. "It won't come to that." He placed Algernon in his pocket. "I'll get you something at lunch." He promised the mouse. "Sit tight until then."

"You know, I'm surprised that you of all people would defend your mouse." Hermione commented. Harry shrugged.

"What? I like animals." Hermione smiled.

"No, I think it's sweet. I just didn't expect it, that's all."

"Anyways, does anyone know what we're doing in Defense today?" Ron interrupted. "Because if we have a quiz, I didn't study."

"I think you're fine, Ron." Harry found himself unbearably curious about DADA. He wondered if Quirrell was going to be there, after the events of last night. If Quirrell would recognize him. He didn't _think_ so, but the anticipation was incredible.

They walked into the classroom and Harry watched as Neville winced, reaching up to touch his scar.

 _Well, well, well. I'd almost forgotten about that._

Quirrell was sitting at his desk, turban on his head, with a cut across the bridge of his nose and one black eye. Harry suppressed a snicker. He certainly looked worse for the wear. Harry may have woken up with a killer headache, but he definitely came out on top in that fight.

"T-t-take your s-s-seats." Quirrell said, typical tremor in his voice. Kids were already whispering about his black eye that was still swollen.

"N-n-now I know you have to b-b-b-be w-wondering ab-bout my eye. I s-s-simply t-t-tripped. N-n-nothing of imp-p-port. N-n-now for t-t-today's lesssson..." Harry kept his eyes trained on Neville the entire time, watching as he winced and twinged, especially when Quirrell looked straight at him. He wondered if Daphne and Blaise were taking similar notes.

XXXX

"Okay so we don't have much time-," Blaise started. The three of them were hiding out in a little alcove, down an empty hallway. Both Blaise and Harry were periodically checking around the corner, looking for intruders. "Can we get together tonight?"

"No can do, Zabini." Daphne said. "Kasinger and I are busy." Blaise looked back and forth between them incredulously, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

"You two are hanging _out_? What the hell? Are you two _dating_?" Daphne laughed. "I'll take that as a _no_ then..."

"Relax, Blaise. I...I can't tell you about it. I swore a vow. Both of us did." Blaise blinked.

"What the fuck are you involved in?" Harry waved his hands dismissively.

"Not important." Tonight, Harry and Daphne had what was known to the racers as a "triple threat". Three novice races in one night. Harry planned to win all _three_ of them. Fred and George had been training him almost non-stop for tonight. If Harry won all three, he'd be the first novice triple threat since Charlie Weasley's novice years. And he wanted so _badly_ to make it.

Tonight, it was about _stamina_. A lot of racers simply _dropped out_ by the third race. Novice was significantly easier than intermediate and expert, but it was no less ruthless. A lot of people never made it past novice for this very reason. Novice D2 races had started the night they were in the woods and Novice D1 races would be starting tomorrow, kicking off with 3 more D3 races, 4 D2 races, and 2 D1 races. And then Intermediate, D3 and D2 started at the same time, with Intermediate D1 and all of Expert starting at the same time. It changed from year to year, but this year was like being baptized by fire.

"Okay, whatever. We meet tomorrow night. _Early_. Can you do that?"

"Can we do late?" Harry requested. Daphne nodded.

"Late works better." Harry and Daphne could potentially move up through D3 and into D2, but there was no possible way for them to move up to D1 by tomorrow night. Still, Harry needed to get a move on through the ranks.

"Fine. Whatever. Keep tabs on Quirrell until then. We can get together in an emergency if need be. Watch yourselves until then, alright?"

"Wait, what will we all be doing until then, exactly?" Harry asked.

"Well, _I'll_ be looking into what could possibly be wrong with Quirrell while you two will be off doing...something."

"We should look into the restricted session." Daphne suggested. "Once we know what we're looking for, of course. We should all start working on getting a pass. You can't just walk in willy-nilly." Blaise nodded tightly.

"Snape might give us one. Dunno about you though." He jerked his head at Harry, who rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

"Maybe I could go to Flitwick? I could make a big case about it. You two are probably the best bet, though.

"I'll work on it." Blaise said. He checked around the corner, before throwing himself back into the alcove. "Filch." Blaise hissed. Harry made a disgusted face.

"We're not actually breaking any rules." Daphne reminded them.

"I _hate_ Filch. And Filch hates me." Harry answered. "Let's just leave it at that." Daphne frowned.

"I'm leaving." She announced. "You two idiots can stay here for all I care."

"Oh thanks." Harry snarked back as she flounced out, long ponytail swaying behind her.

XXXX

"Hey guys." Harry said, plopping down in an open chair and throwing his bag to the ground. The Gryffindors were all settled in. Ron was sitting on a table, munching happily on an apple and guarding the towel full of food laid out. Hermione and Neville were surrounded by stacks of books as they worked on their essays.

Harry knew he should get to work, but he didn't quite feel like it yet, as he leaned back in his chair and stole a cracker from Ron, breaking it in half and putting half in his pocket for Algernon. He nibbled on the other half himself.

"How's it going?" He said, voice slightly muffled. Neville smiled up at him, looking exhausted already.

"I hate Snape." He said, expression remaining the same. Harry snorted.

"You shouldn't say that about a professor." Hermione scolded. Harry shrugged.

"Why? I hate Snape. He hates me, too. We're all on the same page here." She fidgeted in her seat.

"What if he heard you?"

"Good. I hope he knows." Ron grinned.

"Can't argue with that logic, mate." Snape wasn't even a good teacher, anyways. Harry reached over and picked a book out of Hermione's towering stack.

" _Aspects of Potions and How to Use Them?_ " Harry read outloud, flipping through the book curiously. "What does it mean?" Hermione shrugged.

"Like, Potions aspects, y'know? Why you stir clockwise and why you stir counterclockwise. Stuff like that." All three of the boys looked up at the bushy-haired girl.

"No." Harry said. "I don't know." Hermione looked affronted.

"Percy recommended this book to me. He said it helps with Potions immensely. I have to say, he was right." Harry opened the book, ignoring Ron's indignant,

"That prat! He never told me!" Harry skimmed through. It went through common ingredients, common methods. How they affected the Potion and why. There were even a few chapters on the position of the moon and stars and how they affected the outcome of more complicated potions.

"This seems like it would be very helpful." Harry said. "So helpful I might just go glue this to Snape's chalkboard or shove it right up his ass."

"Harry!" Hermione was appalled, even as Ron guffawed loudly.

"What? He should have told us about this from the very beginning, for Chrissake." He set the book down on the table. "I have no clue what I'm doing in that class and it's because he's an asshole."

"Do the Slytherins ever help you?" Neville asked. "Sorry, I just mean...you're partnered with Zabini and everything." Harry nodded.

"Yeah, Blaise helps me a lot. But that's more because of his family. Heavy potions family, so his mom taught him a lot before Hogwarts."

"Oh, by the way, Fred and George said that they saw you sneaking out of the castle last night and they're disappointed you didn't invite them." Ron said suddenly. Harry blinked, before snorting. Hermione's eyes widened and she leaned forward, voice dropping low.

"You snuck out of the castle last night?" She whispered, shocked. Harry shrugged.

"It's certainly not hard."

"Where'd you go?" Neville asked curiously.

"Yeah, they said they saw someone with you. Zabini?" Ron said. Harry nodded.

"I mean, we didn't really do anything. I just don't like having a curfew. I'll go outside if I damn well please."

"But the rules are in place for our safety." Hermione protested. "What if something came out of the Forbidden Forest?"

"Well, it ain't my fucking fault they built a school right next to a mystically evil forest and don't have any goddamn protections in place. That isn't going to stop me from having a breath of fresh air." Harry scowled.

"Oh, c'mon, mate. What were you really doing?" Ron wanted to know. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Nothing!"

" _Please._ " Ron begged. Harry sighed and settled back in his chair.

"Alright." He said finally. Ron looked absolutely riveted. "I'll tell you the truth. But you have to keep it a secret, alright?" Neville and Ron nodded furiously, but Hermione looked a little uncertain.

"I don't know..."

"Lay off it, Granger! Don't you want to know?"

"Oh, fine." Harry gestured for them to lean in, and they did, almost simultaneously.

"Blaise and I went into the forest." Hermione let out an audible gasp. "To perform a blood ritual beneath the moon. It prolongs life and revitalizes strength." Harry said, making up bullshit on the fly. Ron leaned back uncertainly, as did Neville. Hermione looked a little uncomfortable, but in a confused kind of way.

"Harry, you didn't really-?"

"No!" Harry broke out laughing. "I'm fucking with you. I didn't do any kind of blood ritual. I made Blaise go out and wander the forest a bit, I tripped over a root and hit my head and we went back in." Ron laughed, relieved.

"Oh thank Merlin."

"Did you really think I was going to do a _blood ritual_? I don't even know what that is. That's just some bullshit from the Muggle world." Harry teased.

"They have blood rituals in the Muggle world?" Neville asked. Harry shook his head, grinning.

"No, there are no actual blood rituals. There are only blood rituals in Muggle books and movies. Works of fiction. They're not _real_."

" _Are_ there blood rituals?" Hermione asked curiously. "I mean, I assume there must be something _like_ it." Ron and Neville looked increasingly uncomfortable.

"There...are." Neville said slowly.

"It's just not really something..." Ron started, but trailed off. "We're not really supposed to talk about it. The kind of wizards who do blood rituals..." Ron shook his head.

"I mean, they're not all bad." Neville offered half-heartedly. "There are blood adoption rituals, blood cleansing rituals. Medical stuff. But most blood rituals are strictly illegal. Bad things happen."

"I think blood adoption rituals are illegal now anyways." Ron said. "It's just that the last few wizards who used blood magic did horrible things. We shouldn't talk about it."

"Have you guys ever heard the phrase, 'ignorance breeds fear'?" Harry suggested. Ron fixed Harry with a steely look.

"It should. Harry, you don't understand. This stuff is _serious._ " Harry waved his hand.

"Fine, fine. I'm just a Muggleborn who doesn't know anything about magic. I got it, I got it." Things went unnaturally silent.

"So..." Ron said, tilting a chair with his foot. "How about that third floor corridor?"

"Already been, thanks."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. Ron snorted.

"Oh come on, like we didn't know he'd already been."

"Have you?" Harry asked Ron. Ron's cheeks reddened.

"No."

"It's not that bad, really. There's just some strange shit going on at this school." Harry said with a shrug.

"Like what?" Ron wanted to know.

"I'm not telling you. Because I'm not recommending you check it out. I stumbled on it by accident and it is not that great of a place, let me tell you." Ron frowned.

"I thought you'd be all for it, trouble-making and all." Harry frowned back.

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna let you get yourself killed." Harry said . "I'm not recommending it. But if you're going to go, get me first, alright? Or your brothers. They've already taken a peek, I know that."

"You know a lot about this school, don't you?" Neville asked.

"I do too." Hermione said indignantly.

"No, I mean, he's familiar with it. You know a lot of interesting things too, Hermione. Like the ceiling in the Great Hall. It's so cool that you know that-," Hermione smiled. "But like, Harry just knows weird shit. Like he always knows what's going on with the school."

"Except Quidditch." Harry said. "I don't know jack shit about Quidditch." Truth be told, Harry had a tendency to just wander the halls a lot. That, and his contact with the Twins kept him in the know for most of the stuff going on at Hogwarts. For example, the steamy undertones between Sprout and Flitwick. Because teacher gossip was one of the most important things in Harry's life right then.

"First game's coming up." Ron said, nudging Harry.

"You should come, see what you're missing."

"No thanks, I'll pass."

"You could have been seeeeekeeeerrr." Ron said.

"No thanks, I'll pass." Harry repeated. "I'm busy."

"You don't even know what day it is."

"I know I'm busy." Ron rolled his eyes.

"It's Quidditch though!" Harry shrugged.

"I don't give two _shits_ about Quidditch." Just as Harry said that, he _knew_ that he was going to be forced to go to the Quidditch game. Somehow, some way.

 _Damnit._

"Guys, we don't have that much time left. How about we _actually work on the essay?_ " Hermione demanded.

"Ugh, alright, alright." Hermione glared at Ron, who dropped off the table and into his seat. "Fine." he muttered.

XXXX

"Hey there, triple threat." Fred and George slapped Harry's back at the same time. Harry grunted as all the air rushed out of his lungs.

"Thanks." He muttered.

"Are you ready for this?"

"I feel like you're jinxing it." Fred frowned.

"What do you mean? We're not jinxing anything. That's against the rules." Harry slapped himself in the forehead.

"It's just a Muggle saying. Like a superstition. By calling me triple threat and on some level expecting out I'm going to win, you're cursing me so that I won't. Just because you said I would."

"Ohhhh." George said.

"Muggles are weird." Harry laughed.

"You're gonna do fine, kiddo. We all believe in you." They were walking him over to the stands, where the members of his team were waving to him. Cedric ran towards them, waving. He hugged Harry tightly when he met up with them, wishing him good luck.

"You're going to do great." Cedric promised, grabbing his arm and leading him back to the excited Vipertooths.

"Cho, don't you have your first race tomorrow?" Harry asked. She nodded shyly. "First race of the season, I mean. Good luck. You're gonna do great."

"I think you need the luck tonight." Angelina reached out and ruffled Harry's hair.

"Kiddo's first triple threat, awww."

"Best advice I can give you is to stay focused." Cedric said. "You're going to get tired. _Very_ tired. You only have about ten minutes between races. Between them, you need to eat, drink. Take a breather. And when you get tired, you need to push past it, okay? Play it smart the first round. If you don't think you're going to win the first race, that's alright. You don't have to. People are going to expend all their energy the first race and not have enough for the next to. Play smart, _and_ hard. It's alright if you don't win all three, okay?" The entire time, Cedric kept following Harry's eyes worriedly.

Angelina waved her hand dismissively.

"Yeah, yeah, but that's all if he's not gonna win the triple threat. And he's _gonna_ win the triple threat. You do your thing, kiddo, and you'll be fine." Angelina smacked him on the back. "Go have fun. That's why, you're here, isn't it?"

After a little while longer chatting up the Vipertooths, Harry headed back to the lineup. Daphne waved him over, ready and grinning. It had only been a few days, but he'd almost forgotten how it felt before the race. The adrenaline, the camaraderie. Harry liked tramping through the mysterious woods as much as the next person, but he was, at heart, pretty much still an adrenaline junkie and there was no sport like Broom Racing.

"Hey." Harry said, dropping into line next to her. "You ready?"

"I'm taking you down this time." Daphne said pleasantly.

"Fantastic." Harry responded. She slapped him on the arm, _hard_.

"Don't take it too personally."

"I see. It's all fun and games when we're chasing psychos through the woods, but now that the stakes are _meaningful_..." She laughed.

"It's gonna be fun, Kasinger. Just relax."

"Or maybe that's what you _want_ me to think." Harry said jokingly. "Do you feel bad that we can't tell Blaise about this?"

"I have no emotions towards Zabini other than pure hatred." Daphne said, in the same pleasant tone she had been using. "If he died, I would picket his funeral."

"Jesus. Pureblood rivalries run fucking _deep_." Daphne shrugged.

"We like to measure the strength of our families based on the depth of our hatred." Daphne sighed. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. Zabini's a big boy. Besides there's probably some kind of loophole. Talk to your team about it. They'll figure it out."

"Aw, advice from Daphne. I do love our little talks." Daphne grinned like a shark and punched him in the arm.

"Get on your damn broom, we're about to start."

XXXX

Neville was _exhausted_. He'd spent the last two hours in the library, working diligently on a Potions essay he knew he was going to fail regardless. It didn't matter that Hermione had worked tirelessly with him on it; it didn't matter he had checked, and double checked, and triple checked his essay, rewriting it completely at one point. It didn't matter how hard he worked on it, because Snape hated him and was going to fail him anyways. He would always find something to nitpick.

Neville was just _never_ going to be good enough for the greasy git. He almost wished Harry had glued the book to Snape's chalkboard while they had the chance.

The only reason Neville was leaving the library was because it was curfew for firsties. He was going to keep working on it in his dorm, maybe ask Percy for some help.

 _Why even bother,_ he thought. _It's not like the quality of my work actually matters._

He was just so _frustrated_. He was a hard worker! He went to teachers for help, did the extra work, did the extra practice and none of it! None of it mattered to Snape!

He climbed the staircase, gripping the ornate railing.

"Oh no." He whimpered, as he felt it start to move. He _hated_ the swinging staircases. The sudden movement always surprised him. He tried to take a few steps as it leisurely swung around, but all of a sudden, the staircase picked up _speed_.

It swung so fast and then stopped so suddenly, that Neville let out a shout as he gripped on to the railing, body swinging. He almost went over, but at the last moment, he sunk down against the railing and held on. The staircase picked up speed again, swinging the other way, and Neville whimpered, terrified. He'd never seen the staircase do this before, not even all the times Fred and George must have messed with it. And yet, here it was, moving at top speed.

Which wasn't very fast, albeit, but the sudden stop could have easily thrown him over several stories.

 _No, no, no, no..._

Neville shut his eyes, just praying that someone was going to see what was going on and try and help him.

And then it stopped.

Neville didn't trust it at first; after all, it could just be stopped _for now_. But he waited and waited and waited until he was sure he had missed curfew. He stood up, gripping the railing still. It was done. For now, at least.

Neville let out a breath of relief, hefted his bag on his shoulder and sprinted up the stairs, just wanting to get back into his dorm.

And then his foot hit nothing.

It was like the trick step, but magnified, to a giant illusion of steps where there were none and he went tumbling down through the staircase, _screaming_ as he hit the ground.

XXXX

So, did you guys like it?

Things are going to start heating up around the castle. I don't really know how long first year is going to run, as I plan to speed things up a lot. Hopefully, we'll only go to about 15 or 16 chapters at most for first year. And I _do_ intend to continue this story past first year.

Comments, constructive criticism, all is welcome! Please, tell me how you feel! What you like, what you don't like. It means so much to me when you guys comment and I just want to thank everyone who has commented. You guys are fantastic.

I don't know when I'll have time to update, but thank you so much for sticking with me.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter!

Sorry it's been taking me so long, but I'm just kind of busy with my academics. I think I'll probably be able to get another chapter out in a few weeks, but things are going to be slow for a while.

It's been kind of weird writing lately, because I'm diverging further and further from canon. I think I'll probably get back to a lot of it soon, and I'll be sticking to a lot of the main points and events in years to come, but things are gonna get a little funky in the day to day things.

Anyways, I've talked for long enough and I can't really think of any of the things I wanted to say in this moment, so without further ado...

XXXX

Harry was riding _high_ at that very moment.

 _All three races._

 _He'd won all three of them._

The moment he crossed the finish line for the last time, he'd screamed. He felt like his body could no longer contain his joy, that it was bursting from his heart and through his chest.

And then he _landed_ and the hype became _real_.

The Vipertooths were screaming and slapping him on the back, Fred and George losing their minds while the people in the stands cheered for him, other teams closing in to congratulate him, all of them screaming and gesticulating wildly. The excitement was infectious, Harry's heart pounding in his ears, unable to stop grinning.

All of a sudden, Daphne was burrowing through the crowd, congratulating him. It was so loud and distracting Harry only saw the flashes of her white-blonde hair and white teeth. They were grabbing hands, shouting at each other, while shouting at other people. His chest hurt, from smiling, from laughing, from breathing, from the excitement.

"BLOODY HELL!" Fred roared into his ear, grabbing Harry's other hand and raising it into the air. "FUCKING CONGRATULATIONS KIDDO YOU FUCKING DID IT!" Harry just laughed in response.

"I TOLD YOU!" Angelina shouted. "I KNEW YOU WOULD! I SAID IT, I TOLD YOU SO!"

"I NEVER DOUBTED YOU!" Cedric said. "I JUST DIDN'T WANT TO PRESSURE YOU!"

"IT'S OKAY!" Harry shouted back. "I KNOW CEDRIC, I KNOW."

"YOU'RE GONNA KILL IT, KID." Angelina had a strong grip on Harry's shoulder, leaning to shout in his ear. "YOU'RE GONNA KILL IT."

XXXX

Concussion, sprained ankle, broken arm, dislocated shoulder, bruises that covered his entire right side so it was entirely a swollen purple with indents where he had hit the steps. Bruised ribs, several cracked. And a shattered cheekbone.

Neville had fallen _badly_. The height itself was undoubtedly survivable for wizards, and if Neville had been prepared at all, he probably could have gotten away with a few bruises. But he hit hard and hit at all the wrong angles and now he was lying in the hospital wing with his face swollen up. He wasn't in pain anymore, but it fucking _sucked_.

McGonagall wanted to know what happened and Neville told her. But her first thought was that the Twins had done something to expand the trick step. Neville had tried to protest. He didn't think the Twins would do something like that; they weren't cruel. They had never tried to seriously injure _anyone_. What happened on the staircase was a line the Twins wouldn't cross. But McGonagall didn't seem all that interested in what Neville had to say. Neville didn't think she would _refuse_ to investigate any other avenues if presented with adequate evidence of the Twins' innocence, but he thought it was a bit insensitive and unfair to not consider any other suspects until forced to.

And _now_ he was bedridden. Because Pomfrey and McGonagall and Dumbledore were not about to let their golden boy out of their sight even though Neville could totally be done and back in bed in an hour and a half.

What he needed was someone to break him out.

Would it be too much to ask of Harry?

 _Nah_ , Neville thought. _He'd like the challenge._

The only problem was that Harry had a tendency to just _disappear_ at night. He wandered off and no one in his dorm had any idea where he went. The two people who could track him down, Fred and George, were also mysteriously absent. Neville got the feeling that there was a whole secret side to Hogwarts that he wasn't seeing, where the students went and did interesting things without him.

Well, if being left out was the name of the game, Neville had already mastered that at a young age.

XXXX

 _That's weird,_ Harry thought as he soared over the groundskeeper's hut. It was tucked away, right by the Forbidden Forest. Harry was not yet acquainted with the supposed half-giant, but according to Fred and George, it paid to be.

What surprised Harry though, was the fact that the hut was all lit up, warm glow visible through the windows. It was late, and Harry couldn't think of a reason for Hagrid to be up so late. And yet, he was.

He was peering down curiously at the hut, when the lights flared violently. Harry stopped above the hut, the lights flaring continuously in the hut, until he heard a surprised _shout_ and a small trail of smoke curled out through one of the windows. It drifted up towards Harry, but dissipated before it ever reached him.

 _What. the. fuck._

Harry dipped down on his broom, so that he was hovering just above the roof, listening carefully.

" _A'right Norber' jus' take it easy."_ The half giant was cooing to something inside. Harry knew that the man had a penchant for dangerous creatures, but he couldn't tell what this one was, not over the hissing. " _I've got sum food for you right here."_ Harry leaned over the front end of his broom, letting his head hang. He was trying to see into the hut, through the open window.

The creature trilled quietly in response to Hagrid's words, and Harry could hear it eating.

" _I know, I know. Yer hungry._ " Hagrid reassured the creature. " _I've got 'nough food for ya right 'ere."_

Harry tried to lean forward a bit more, trying to get a glimpse of the creature, and in doing so, shifted a little too far. For a brief moment, the broom dipped forward and Harry stifled a yell, scrambling to get back into place. But not before catching a murky green glint in the firelight, a quick glance at a pair of _wings._

 _Holy shit._

Harry gripped his broom and shot into the air.

 _It was a dragon. A real-life dragon. Holy shit. HOLY SHIT!_

Harry was so excited he could have screamed.

XXXX

Originally, Harry had planned to go back to his dorm, take a shower, and pass out. He was exhausted; Daphne hadn't gone easy on him and he was sore all over. But now, he was practically bursting with excitement, with the _need_ to tell someone about what he had seen. It was a dragon. A dragon! An actual, honest-to-God dragon!

But as soon as he climbed through the window, all eyes in the room went to Harry, locking onto him in the dim light. Harry was surprised, to say the least. Thank God he had already taken off his uniform.

"Where the hell have you been?" Seamus said. "Why do you have a broom?" Harry frowned, shoving his broom underneath his bed. HIs excitement over the dragon was quickly fading as he sensed the somber atmosphere in the room.

"Nowhere. I was just fucking around with the Twins. Why are you all still awake?" It was 11:30 and they had class at 7 the next day.

"It's Neville." Ron said. "He's hurt." Harry straightened up.

"What happened?" He could feel the anxiety creeping into his veins. This didn't have anything to do with Quirrell, did it?

It probably did.

"Where is he?" Harry demanded.

"Hospital wing." Dean said. "We're not allowed to go see him."

"Why the fuck not?" Harry demanded. "What time did this happen?"

"Because of curfew. He's been in there for hours now." Now _that_ made Harry nervous. Most injuries could be healed relatively quickly, especially if Madam Pomfrey was doing the work. To have been there for hours now with no end in sight, Neville must have been hurt _very_ badly. Harry scowled, before grabbing his transfiguration book, shoving it in his bag, and heading for the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Ron asked, getting up from his bed. He looked paler than usual, clearly worried about his friend.

"To the Hospital Wing. Where the fuck else would I be going?"

"We're not allowed to." Ron reiterated tiredly. "We'll get in trouble."

"So?" Harry shot back. "I'm trying to break a record anyways." He quickly grabbed a sweatshirt off his bed. "I'm off. See ya." He headed out to the Hospital Wing, taking the winding stairwells hidden away to get there, dodging Filch.

The doors to the infirmary were closed, but Harry could see the soft glow of light peeking out from under the door and the quiet hum of voices. He peered through the small crack between the doors, to see several figures standing there, including Dumbledore. He could recognize him by the bright blue robes.

Harry pushed the door open, ignoring the loud creak. All eyes, once again, went to him. Slightly startled and a little bit angry. It was just Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and McGonagall at the moment, with Neville laid up in bed, one side of his face swollen. His eyes lit up when he saw Harry.

"Mr. Kasinger!" McGonagall exclaimed. "What do you think you're doing here?"

"Visiting Neville?" Harry offered, slipping in and shutting the door.

"It is past your curfew! Go to bed! Mr. Longbottom will be back in the morning."

"No." Harry answered, walking over to Neville, grabbing the chair Dumbledore had previously been sitting in and taking it for himself. He settled down next to Neville's bed, offering him a reassuring smile.

"Hi Harry." Neville said tiredly, but still smiling. "You're probably wondering what happened."

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Mr. Kasinger, I must demand that you leave." Madam Pomfrey said pointedly. "I do not need any help at the moment, and you must listen to your head of house."

"What? Can't I talk to my friend? He's been here for hours, why isn't he back in his dorm?" Harry demanded.

"Mr. Kasinger." McGonagall said sharply. "Go back to your dorm, right now." Harry lifted his chin defiantly.

"No." Dumbledore suddenly smiled, eyes twinkling over his half-moon glasses.

"That you care for your friend so much is very much commendable, but we have it under control. Perhaps you should go to bed and enjoy the few hours of sleep you have left."

"No, I'm good here."

"20 points from Gryffindor." McGonagall snapped. Harry shrugged.

"Now, Minerva, I'm sure there's no need for _that_." Dumbledore said, trying to appear the benevolent figure. "We shouldn't punish our students for being compassionate."

"I'm not punishing him for being compassionate. I'm punishing him for disobeying. And he knows that." She stared pointedly at Harry, who shrugged, again.

"Mr. Kasinger, why are you here?" Dumbledore asked. "Mr. Longbottom will be fine. You know we will take good care of him." Harry crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. Neville glanced from him, to Dumbledore, and back again.

"Actually, I don't. Because you _assholes_ fucked up so _tremendously_ with the troll, I don't really know _anything._ "

"MR. KASINGER!" McGonagall shrieked. "DETENTION! FOUR OF THEM!" Harry made a face back.

"Yeah, but you know I'm right. This place is a goddamn death trap."

"NO, YOU'RE NOT RIGHT!" Harry grinned. "LET'S MAKE THAT FIVE! NOW LEAVE, BEFORE YOUR HOUSE SUFFERS FOR IT." Harry didn't know if there was a record for how _angry_ you could make McGonagall, but he was pretty sure he'd broken it.

"I know something you don't know." Harry said. It was so petty and stupid, but he was so _angry_ all of a sudden and it felt _good_ to have something over her. The school was so dangerous and no one cared until the Boy-Who-Lived got hurt.

"And what is that, Mr. Kasinger?" McGonagall demanded through gritted teeth.

Oh, he wanted to rub it in. To tell her and to laugh, but he knew that wasn't a good idea.

Harry grinned.

"It seems we've reached an impasse." Dumbledore cut in. "Minerva, I don't know if anything short of physically removing Mr. Kasinger will deter him. Why don't we just let him stay with Mr. Longbottom? They'll both be asleep soon enough." McGonagall was _pissed_ , jaw clenched, but she didn't say _no_. Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder and steered her away. "We will see you again in the morning, Mr. Longbottom. Try to get some rest for now."

XXXX

Madam Pomfrey had demanded lights out, but Harry was using his wand to read his transfiguration book, having promised to stay awake until Neville fell asleep. He had told Harry about everything that happened, and Harry was almost certain it was the work of Quirrell.

"Harry?" Neville asked quietly. Harry looked up from his book. He was reading up on a little transfiguration theory.

"Yes, Neville?"

"What is it that you know? What McGonagall doesn't, I mean." Harry sighed.

"A lot. I'll tell you, sometime. But not here. Not now."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Yes." Harry wasn't going to lie to him.

"Does it have something to do with what happened to me?" Harry hesitated, chewing his lip.

"I...I think so."

"Oh." Harry watched as Neville pulled the covers up to his chin.

"You'll be fine, Neville. I promise."

XXXX

"You seriously think this is Quirrell's doing?" Daphne asked. Harry nodded furiously, leaning against the cold stones. He had called an emergency meeting for lunch and they had all met up at the Astronomy Tower, eating off of napkins while he filled them in on what happened to Neville. "But _why_?" She said. "Killing the Boy-Who-Lived is just going to draw more attention than it's worth." Harry shrugged.

"I don't know, but Quirrell definitely has something weird to do with Neville. Every day, when Neville walks into Defense, he cringes. His scar starts hurting. Once, it almost started bleeding. It seriously looked bad." Both Daphne and Blaise straightened up, the anxiety in the air palpable. "What?" Harry asked, watching as Blaise swallowed thickly. The two Slytherins didn't look _panicked_ , per se, but definitely concerned. And _that_ concerned Harry greatly.

"His scar?" Harry nodded. "You're certain? The one given to him by the Dark Lord?" Harry rolled his eyes.

"No, I mean the scrape on his knee. Yes, Blaise. I'm fucking sure."

"That's a _curse_ scar, Harry."

"Yes, I'd gathered that much."

"That really isn't good." Blaise said, deep in thought.

"No shit?"

"But _why_?" Daphne said. "That doesn't make any sense. This can't possibly have anything to do with th-the Dark Lord."

"He's gone." Blaise agreed. " _All_ of his former followers agree, and they couldn't agree on jack shit beforehand."

"What if he does have something to do with this?" Harry suggested. He didn't understand all the fanfare and abject terror over a man who was long dead. The discomfort and sorrow, he could understand, but the continued fear of even saying his name was ridiculous.

"He doesn't." Blaise said firmly. "He's long dead. His followers are dispersed. That's it. He died the night he attacked Longbottom."

"Says who?" Harry said. Daphne made a noise of disgust.

" _Everyone_. He's gone. The curse rebounded and killed him. Merlin, Kasinger. Look it up. It's an important piece of Wizarding history."

"Okay, but hear me out-," Harry said, waving his hands. "Who was actually _there_ to see what happened?"

The distinct silence was all Harry needed.

"So maybe he's _not_ actually gone. I mean, after all, everything that happened that night is basically just a theory and if he's here at Hogwarts-,"

"Stop." Daphne said, standing up.

"No, but-,"  
"STOP." She roared and Harry fell silent. "Kasinger, I like your little conspiracy theories as much as Zabini, and when it comes to the incompetency of the people at this school, I can believe it. But what you're suggesting is above and beyond the realm of possibility. They know, alright? They have ways of knowing and I'll not have you _digging up_ a remnant of the past that would absolutely _destroy_ the lives of some people if they ever thought for even a second that they weren't safe. It's useless and cruel." She snapped, hands balled into fists at her side. The rooftop was silent.

"Blaise?" Harry said. "Any thoughts you would also like to share?"

"You don't know everything about Wizarding culture just because you read a few books and go to school here." Blaise said. "And you should stop pretending like you do because you're jumping to conclusions that everyone in the Wizarding World has already covered time and time again."

"Right." Harry said. "I get it. I'm the naive Mudblood playing with all the big kids. I catch your meaning."

"That's not what I meant-,"

"No, you can say it. It is. You don't like the idea of a Mudblood questioning all the things you won't because you're stupid society is so entrenched in tradition and purity that you run away from new ideas. For chrissake, you guys don't even have phones."

"Shut up, Kasinger." Daphne spat out. "You don't understand."

"No, I get it completely. You guys are afraid. Because if Voldemort is still around that puts your families in a very bad position. 'If they ever thought for even a second that they weren't safe'? I'm not stupid. I get it. Your father was Death Eater and if his master was still alive that would put you all in a very tight spot because torturing Muggles and Muggleborns is only fun when there are no real consequences. Voldemort makes it real."

"Fuck you."

"I'm not asking you assholes to completely suspend your disbelief, but Jesus Christ, you can't ignore the evidence. Maybe there's another explanation for why Quirrell makes Neville's scar bleed. But the simplest solution is often the right one."

"You're an ass, Kasinger." Daphne said.

"Yeah. I know." Harry said. "Are you going to help me or not? Because I'll do this alone if I have to."

"You're a weird kid." Blaise said. "Like, a really fucking weird kid."

XXXX

Daphne and Blaise agreed to search around the castle and look for other enchantments and traps that might be targeted at Neville. Harry was surprised the rest of their meeting went as well as it did, but they could all agree that they needed something to concretely connect Quirrell to what was going on. Voldemort or no Voldemort, what was going on was serious and dangerous.

Not to mention that Harry still didn't know how the third floor corridor figured into any of this. He had all the pieces, but he just didn't know how they all fit together. Only that Quirrell, Neville, and Dumbledore were all at the center of this, unwittingly or otherwise.

So while Daphne and Blaise were dismantling traps around the castle, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were watching Neville closely. Harry had talked to the two Gryffindors a bit; not enough to reveal what he knew, but enough to suggest that there was some kind of malicious force at work here. Ron thought it was Snape; Harry didn't have the heart to disprove that theory.

"You guys don't need to escort me everywhere." Neville complained. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, I always have people watching out for me."

"Dumb people." Harry said, picking his nails, leaning against the bathroom sink, back to Neville who was taking a piss. "For Chrissake Neville, you literally fell through the stairs. Someone's out to get you and they know what they're doing."

"He's going a point, Nev." Ron said, also leaning against the bathroom sink. Though, he was blushing quite a bit more than Harry was. Harry was honestly used to this; they had communal type bathrooms at the orphanage, so no one's genitalia had been a mystery. The girls and boys were still separate, of course, but Harry knew all he needed to know.

Neville groaned, washing coming over to wash his hands. Harry and Ron turned around.

"What are you saying, anyways?" Harry frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"What's chrisake?" It took Harry a moment, and then he laughed.

"Sorry. I'm saying Christ's sake." He enunciated each word carefully.

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"You guys don't have Muggle religion? Y'know, Christianity?"

"Oh, I mean, I've heard of it, but that's about it. We still celebrate Christmas and all, but not really for the same reasons as Muggles, I guess." Neville said.

"Uh, well, Jesus Christ is a pretty um, central figure in it..." Harry started, not sure of how to go about this. "It's kind of like a swear? But not really a swear, y'know. Like how you guys say Merlin. Some people get really offended by it though. Y'know how people say 'for Pete's sake?' sort of like that, but with a little more weight." Harry tried.

"Ohhh." Neville and Ron sort of seemed to understand.

"Are you religious, Harry?" Neville asked timidly.

"Uh me? No. No, not really. It's just something you say."

"You use a lot of weird Muggle slang." Ron observed. Harry frowned. "Like, yesterday, you told me to keep it on the 'dee el' and I didn't know what that meant."

"Oh, that's dl. Like, down low. Keep it on the down low."

"I still don't know what that means."

"It's like..." Harry tried to think of how to explain it. "Keep it low-key. Keep it quiet. But not necessarily like, don't talk about it. More like, only tell people you trust, but keep it to a minimum. But not always. It's complicated. Context clues are important." It was in moments like this that he remembered that wizards didn't have phones and couldn't possibly understand the origins of half the things Muggles said, from chatspeak to derivatives of chatspeak and internet sensations.

"You say weird things." Ron said.

"You guys say _Merlin's baggy pants_ , I don't think you really have room to talk."

"We should get going." Neville suggested. "We're gonna be late for Transfiguration." Harry groaned.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Harry had a complicated relationship with McGonagall. Sometimes they were alright, sometimes they weren't. They'd probably be alright again pretty soon, but for now, things weren't going so well. It was a love-hate relationship.

Thank God she hadn't given him a lecture on 'wasted potential' yet. He'd already heard that spiel too many times in public school.

They rushed off to Transfiguration, where Harry took his seat in the back with Blaise. The moment he sat down, Blaise leaned in, to whisper,

"We found some trace magic. Dark shit. Nothing in particular yet, but it's not looking so good for Longbottom at the moment."

"That's great." Harry said. "I'm ecstatic. What do you think?"

"I think I should have gone to Durmstrang."

"Oh, ha ha." Harry said in response, but Blaise just grinned.

"Y'know, after all the shit you've pulled with McGonagall, you better be incredible at Transfiguration or she's going to take it out on you."

"I've made some mistakes-,"

"I know."

"Oh, shut up. But that was not one of them. McGonagall can fight me. Besides, Transfiguration isn't that hard."

"Pray tell, what have you discovered?" Blaise said, leaning back in his chair and grinning. Harry rolled his eyes.

"That Transfiguration theory is really simple and if you can get the whole intent, concentration, and imagination think down cold, turning a mouse into a snuffbox or a bird into a goblet isn't really all that different."

"Yeah, you're right. Transfiguration theory is simple. If you can get all of that down, this class will be a breeze for you. But actually _getting_ all that down is not as easy as you are saying."

"I've been practicing." Harry said.

"I'm shocked."

"Oh, shut up. I'm better at it than I was before. I worked hard on it." He said indignantly. He was by no means a master of the first year Transfiguration curriculum, but he thought it was fair to say he'd made some progress on it. It was remarkable how much time he had to work on other projects when he didn't devote even a second to Potions. He had yet to write an essay this semester. He was prepared to fail and Snape was prepared to fail him. A beautiful, symbiotic relationship.

McGonagall strode in and the class fell silent. She turned to the chalkboard wordlessly and began to scribble down what Harry assumed were instructions, though he couldn't quite see what they were.

When she turned back around, Harry stifled a laugh.

The spell they were learning today was _avifors_.

 _His favorite spell._

He could picture it now; watching the poor bastards on the race track fly through a flock of birds, screaming swears at him because _of course_ they knew who did it.

McGonagall launched into an explanation on theory and the actual function of the spell, but Harry wasn't listening. All he could do was try not to laugh.

Soon enough though, McGonagall let them go to work on it in pairs, but Blaise eyed Harry cautiously.

"You already know the spell?" Harry grinned.

"That's actually an understatement."

"Great. Now show me how to do this." While Harry was teaching Blaise what to do, McGonagall stalked over, not even trying to disguise her intentions by wandering around from table to table. She made a beeline for him, looking murderous.

"Mr. Kasinger." She said ominously. "You seem to be quite confident in your skills. Perhaps you should show me."

"Yes, Professor." Harry said, hiding a smirk. He took out the required piece of paper, and waved his wand, hissing, " _Avifors_." One bright blue flash of light later, and a small flock of birds flurried upwards. Harry settled back in his seat, openly grinning. McGonagall simply raised an eyebrow at him, looking unimpressed.

"Perhaps you can take it a step further, Mr. Kasinger, and turn your piece of paper into a swarm of bats."

"I think it's a colony, actually." McGonagall gave him a sickly sweet smile.

"Challenge yourself." She suggested. "It's the same spell. I trust you can figure it out." She stalked off, and Blaise leaned over, whispering in Harry's ear,

"I think you're in a pissing contest with the professor."

"Literally the story of my life."

XXXX

As it turned out, bats were much harder than birds and not achievable by the end of _that_ day. Though, Harry had managed to turn his small yellow birds into a murder of crows that flew over the lights in the classroom and blocked them out for a brief moment and terrified the firsties. That got him yelled at, but he didn't really know what he was doing.

"Okay, mistakes were made," Harry said to Blaise as they left the classroom, covered in feathers from the many, many mistakes that were made. "But I'm working on it." Blaise glared at him. "I'm trying!"

"Hey Harry!" Harry twisted his neck to see Fred and George jogging to catch up.

"Hey." He said as they sidled up to him excitedly.

"Did you hear?" Fred asked.

"Hear what?"

"There was a fire-,"

"-at Hagrid's hut-,"

"-and there will be all those teachers," _Shit._ What if they found the dragon?

"-poking around for today,"

"-so stuff is cancelled, for tonight."

"It was very unfortunate."

"I shed a tear."

"But just one. I was there."

"It was very touching."

"Thanks for letting me know." Harry said. He still had difficulty keeping up with their ping-pong like exchanges. They slapped him on the back simultaneously.

"See you later, Harry."

They wandered off, but Harry was left thinking about the dragon in Hagrid's hut, even as Blaise began to talk again. What if it was found? They wouldn't ship it off somewhere awful, would it? Besides, he _really_ wanted to see it.

"Are you even listening?" Blaise asked.

"Sort of. Something important has kind of come up. Do you want to help me with a dragon?" Blaise wrinkled his nose in disgust. "What?"

"I had a bad experience with a dragon when I was little." He confessed. Harry snorted.

"Like what?" Blaise lifted a hand to his shaggy hair, raising it over his right ear to show Harry where a tiny bite had been taken out.

"Oh shit." Harry said, leaning closer to squint at it. He felt like his eyes were getting dry; he'd probably have to stop in the bathroom and take out his contacts. "Well, I'm going to go deal with the dragon. Keep it on the down low, would ya?"

"Have fun." Blaise said dryly. "Watch out for their little fucking mouths."

XXXX

Once he'd made the switch to glasses, Harry had headed out to Hagrid's hut, which was thankfully empty. He could, however, see the scorch marks along the back outside wall and the ground where the fire had spread before being put it out. It wasn't bad, really. From the size of the fire, Hagrid probably could have just laid on it and put it out.

Harry knocked on the door, a little unsure of how to open. But he just didn't want to the dragon to be found it. He fucking wanted to see a dragon. Was that so weird?

" _One second!"_

Hagrid answered the door, and Harry was stunned, for a brief moment. He remembered Hagrid from the train, from taking the firsties across the lake, but he had briefly forgotten just how big and broad the man was. It was terrifying.

But overall, Hagrid was a nice man. Harry had sort of expected a warm, _Oh, 'ello! What can I do for you today?_

What he didn't expect was for Hagrid to freeze, mouth dropping open to stare at Harry, who blinked back, nervously taking off his glasses to clean them on the edge of his shirt.

"Uh, hi?"

"You didn't 'ave parents that went 'ere, did you?" Hagrid asked. Harry shook his head, sliding his glasses back on.

"Er, no. I'm Muggleborn." Hagrid blinked, before smiling.

"Sorry, you just looked a lot like someone I knew from years ago. Thought maybe you were their son, but I guess not, after all. What can I help you with today?" Hagrid asked cheerfully.

"Er, can I come in for a second?" Hagrid invited him in cheerfully, offering him a seat, some tea, some biscuits that looked like rocks, but Harry politely declined. It was warm and homey inside Hagrid's hut, a fire crackling and a large dog lounging in front of it. The hut was cluttered, but everything looked homemade.

"Okay, I don't really know how to say this, but I know you have a dragon here and there's apparently supposed to be teachers poking around here and I figured you needed some warning." The smile dropped off of Hagrid's face.

"How do you know about Norbert?"

"Er, I saw him through the window the other day. Sorry." Harry didn't really know what he was apologizing for. "Anyways, I thought I would warn you." Hagrid held his face in his hands, eyes wide.

"I don't know where I'm going to hide him tonight!"

"Um, I could help, maybe?" Harry suggested. He didn't really know where he was going to hide him either, so it was time to think fast. He could probably stash Norbert in the old Astronomy Tower, with Blaise's help. Just for the night.

"Oh, would you?" Hagrid's face lit up. "Could you hide him for the night?"

"Yeah. Of course I could." Harry said. What on earth was going on? "On another note, you don't happen to be responsible for the Cerberus on the third floor corridor?"

"Fluffy?" Harry sighed.

"Yeah. Fred and George told me something of the like."

"Oh, you're friends with Fred and George?"

"Yeah, we're pretty close." Hagrid clapped his hands together.

"Where are my manners? Would you like to see 'im?" Harry blinked.

"Norbert?"

"Yeah!"

 _FUCK YES._

"Yeah, that would be really cool." Harry tried to play it cool and not let on to how excited he was.

Hagrid got up to close all of the windows and curtains first, but soon enough, there was a baby dragon sitting on the table, snapping at Harry's fingers as he reached out to stroke him. Harry didn't care.

"Ohhh myy goooodddd." He inhaled. "He's so _cute!_ " Hagrid was watching Norbert, fascinated. Practically _enchanted_ with the creature. Harry couldn't blame him.

"Isn't he just the cutest little guy?" He reached out and stroked Norbert under the chin. Norbert trilled in response.

"Hey buddy." Harry cooed, holding out his hand, fingers splayed. Norbert sniffed at it and Harry could not have been more ecstatic. "He's adorable!" Norbert let out a little puff of smoke. "I assume he's responsible for the fire?" Hagrid shrugged.

"Yeah, but 'e's just playin' 'round. Didn't mean nothing by it." Norbert inched a little closer to Harry and Harry tried to contain his excitement.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to." Harry said. "What are you going to do when he gets bigger?" He asked curiously. Hagrid shrugged.

"Haven't figured that out yet, but I probably should. He's growin' fast." Harry agreed; Norbert was already much bigger than the first time Harry had seen him, which was just a few days ago. In a few weeks time, he would probably be the size of a dog.

"I mean, you could probably keep him in the woods. I dunno about the wildlife there and if that would be a problem." Hagrid considered this.

"I reckon Norbert'd be big enough to take on anything in a little while. Dragons don't have many predators besides us." Hagrid shrugged. "Though, I suppose..." Harry watched as Hagrid became teary. "...if worse came to worse, Fred and George's brother, Charlie could probably take him to the reserve. To be with the other dragons." Hagrid looked upset.

"If it came to that, I'm sure Norbert would be very happy." Harry assured Hagrid, who rubbed his eyes.

"I know, but I would miss him." Once it was dark, Hagrid and Harry worked on tucking Norbert safely into Harry's book bag. He was so cute, Harry just wanted to cuddle him. He was like a sharp puppy.

He snuck back into the castle, one hand on Norbert, trying to keep him calm as he crept up back stairwells, towards the old Astronomy Tower. It was past curfew now, and he had already spotted Filch battling it out with Peeves on the other end of the castle, completely distracted for the next couple hours. Peeves was so loud and obnoxious that Harry doubted Filch could hear anything _but_ the poltergeist. Even the portraits had left for the night, asleep, or carousing in the livelier paintings.

"BLOODY HELL!" The shout startled Norbert out of Harry's book bag, and he climbed Harry like a tree, terrified. Harry did his best to ignore those sharp claws, only wincing a little as he wrapped his robe around Norbert, swaddling him. Dragon in one hand, wand in the other, Harry was ready to go.

He leaned up against the side of the wall, creeping along it and towards the corner, the shouting getting louder and louder. As he got closer, Harry could swear he heard mechanical scraping, like a machine kicking into gear.

 _The fuck?_

Harry instantly recognize Neville's loud scream, and sprinted out from around the corner, wand in one hand, running down the hallway. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what was happening.

It was fucking _chaos_.

Neville, Hermione, and Ron were screaming, running away, as Daphne and Blaise tag teamed their way down the hallway, taking turns between running and throwing spells and obstacles at the suit of armor marching its way down the hall, swinging a sword in a wide arc. He tried to slam Blaise with his shield, but barely missed him as the two Slytherins skedaddled out of there.

"I LEAVE FOR FIVE MINUTES!" Harry roared, flinging spells of his own at the suit of armor. He sent a flock of crows at the armor, hoping it would get distracted.

"YOU WERE GONE FOR THREE HOURS!" Blaise shrieked back as the suit of armor marched at them.

" _FLIPENDO_!" Harry shouted, but the spell did nothing to the suit of armor. "uh...er... _finite_?" He tried. " _Finite incantatem_?"

"WE'VE TRIED THAT, YOU ASSHOLE." Daphne shouted.

"I'M TRYING HERE!" Norbert trilled nervously, his claws digging through Harry's robes.

"WHY DID YOU BRING THAT THING BACK WITH YOU!" Blaise shouted, as the two Slytherins backed up. The Gryffindors ran over to Harry, freezing as they saw the swaddled dragon.

"Where did you get a _drag-?!_ " Hermione shouted before Ron clamped a hand over her mouth.

" _Shhhh!"_

"A LITTLE HELP HERE!" Daphne demanded.

"I'M THINKING!" He started waving his wand. " _DEPRIMO! IMMOBULUS! IMPEDIMENTA!_ " Daphne nearly backed up into him as the suit of armor got closer.

"TRY A LITTLE HARDER, DAMN IT!" The group of them were crowding together now, stumbling backwards at the relentless onslaught of the suit of armor, flinging every spell they could think of at it.

"FUCK!" Harry shouted, and suddenly Norbert was trying to spring out of his arms, with Harry lunging to keep hold of him, mouth opening and letting out a surprisingly fierce stream of fire that had the suit of armor caving in on itself as it melted instantly, collapsing into an awful mess.

The hallway fell deathly silent, as they peered over the warped metal.

"Son of a bitch." Harry said.

"Dragonfire." Ron responded. "It can destroy most enchantments. And metals."

"Well, fuck."

XXXX

They six of them went to the old Astronomy Tower together, with Blaise levitating the suit of armor. It was surprisingly easy to stage a cover-up. No one was around, not even the portraits, all too busy sitting back and eating popcorn while Filch fought with Peeves.

 _We could have died_ , Harry thought. _And they probably wouldn't have known until morning._

That thought did not comfort him in any way, shape, or form. As they walked, Harry explained the situation with Hagrid to them.

"We could give him to my brother." Ron suggested. "Charlie would take him to the reserve, and he wouldn't let anything bad happen to him." Harry hugged Norbert close to his chest, horrified. Norbert let out a little trill in response.

"I don't want to send him away!'

"Merlin, Harry. He's a dragon. If he can roast a suit of armor now, imagine what he could do in a few weeks. In a few _days_."

"He's just a baby!" Harry protested.

"And we're lucky he's just that." Blaise cut in flatly. "You can't keep him here."

"I'm not going to be the one to break the news to Hagrid." Harry said.

XXXX

They camped out on the Astronomy Tower for the night, thanking their lucky stars that they didn't have class the next day. Later, they took Norbert back to Hagrid and broke the news, taking advantage of Neville's fame and Hagrid's familiarity with Alice and Frank Longbottom to make him say yes. Harry wanted no part in it, so he sat outside.

After they broke the news, Daphne, Harry, and Blaise buried the suit of armor in the forest while Ron wrote to his older brother.

XXXX

Charlie was to arrive that night, in the Forbidden Forest. The Twins had gotten involved in the conversation, telling Charlie to meet Harry on the race track, which was hosting no races that night due to the Quidditch match the next day.

Harry was to go alone, because he would attract less attention alone, and because Blaise wasn't going to risk the rest of his ear with Norbert. Not that Harry minded; it would be a quick hand-off, and he was no stranger to the Forbidden Forest.

The Good-byes were rough, because Hagrid didn't want to let Norbert go and Harry felt like he was betraying the small dragon. He didn't _want_ to give Norbert away. He knew it was the best choice, but he still didn't want to let him go.

He had Norbert swaddled in his robes again, wielding a wand in one hand and the baby dragon in the other. He didn't think he'd run into any trouble, but he never knew what might be lurking in the forest.

The Forbidden Forest was still frightening when alone, however. That much had not faded. Harry still jumped a little at every little sound that was made, could swear he saw figures flitting in the shadows.

He was ready though; he had a couple of violent spells on the tip of his tongue, as well as his old faithful bird-flinging spell that everyone hated so much.

The walk to the track was familiar and Harry was finding that he was quite good at navigating the Forbidden Forest. It was easy to find old footsteps, old tracks, and he had a much better sense of direction now, despite the forest looking largely the same. He had even seen a few centaur once, but had never approached one.

The forest was interesting, in Harry's opinion. And not nearly as dangerous as it was made out to be. Wizards were afraid of the strangest things; students could kill each other in the hallways no problems, but God forbid they have to walk around a forest. Flying around with no restraints or safety nets at hundreds of miles an hour, hitting each other with giant balls that frequently killed people were no problem, but _my God, a werewolf!_

Norbert trilled in Harry's arms.

"I know, buddy." Harry said.

As he followed the winding path into the forest, an eerie silence began to fall. Slowly, at first. But then all at once. Norbert trilled nervously to fill the ap, and Harry found himself humming just a little, trying to make the silence more bearable. He hoped that it was just the response of the creatures in the forest to the presence of a dragon, the natural predator of literally everything. He hoped.

But probably not.

He picked up the pace a little, grip tightening on his wand until his knuckles were white.

 _I'm gonna be fine_ , Harry said to himself. _I've taken this route a million times. I've been in this forest a million times. There's nothing to be afraid of._

There was, but Harry could handle it. Norbert could handle it.

And then Harry saw the billowing of a cloak as a figure flitted between the trees and stopped dead in his tracks for a brief moment.

 _Fuck._

Of course. _Of course that bastard had to be stalking the woods this very night._

Well, it wasn't the first time Harry had successfully avoided him, and hopefully not the last.

He broke out into a sprint, shouting,

" _LUMOS MAXIMA!"_ The forest lit up, basking the trees in bright light that eliminated all shadows. A hooded figure could be seen among them, screeching and covering his eyes at the sudden bright light that even Harry had to squint at.

 _I've got you, motherfucker._

" _Obscuro manere!_ " The figure started to yell, tugging at the blindfold, trying to yank it off, as Harry darted through the trees, taking his head start on Quirrell. He'd modified the spell a little, with help from Fred and George. Well, it was mainly Fred and George. The additions made the blindfold a little more difficult to take off. It wasn't hard, but it would take any enemy a few seconds to figure it out in their surprise.

Harry's feet pounded against the ground, leaping over roots and rocks and ducking under branches, the smaller ones scraping against his face. He was breathing heavy, worried about losing his balance. The extra weight of Norbert had him tilted to one side, and if the dragon panicked and tried to scramble out of Harry's grip, things would go south very quickly. Harry felt he was only prolonging the inevitable, running on borrowed time.

 _I just need to get to the track_ , he thought. _Charlie's there_. _Quirrell won't want another witness, especially not an adult wizard. If Charlie goes missing, people will know he's gone._

Harry didn't necessarily know if Charlie would be able to take Quirrell in a fight; but Charlie dealt with dragons on a daily basis and Harry would be extremely disappointed if he didn't have a few nasty tricks up his sleeve.

" _YOU BLOODY FOOL!"_ The sinister, high-pitched voice rang out through the forest. " _GET HIM!_ "

 _Hnnggg_ , was Harry's only thought, thinking of the face on the back of Quirrell's head, cringing. Just the implications of the idea...Harry didn't want to think about what kind of implications a sentient being living in the back of someone's head had for the quality and fundamental ideas of life. It gave him a little bit of an existential crisis just thinking about it and he would prefer to avoid that while running for his life.

 _I haaaaaatteee thiiiiissss_

He could see the lights from the track from here; so close, he just had to make it a little further.

-and then his robes were cutting into his throat as he was being pulled back sharply by the back of his clothes, no discernible hand pulling him back. His feet scraped against the ground as he was dragged backwards, dropping Norbert and trying to pull his robes away from his throat. He was choking, coughing, feeling the blood rushing to his face.

" _S-s-sonorus_." Harry choked out, as his back slammed into a tree. He twisted, trying to break the magical grip as Quirrell stepped in front of him, face obscured by his hood.

" _You little-,_ " Quirrell started, and Harry sucked in what breath he could, and screamed in Quirrell's face.

"AAAAAAH!" Harry shouted, swinging his legs out wildly. Quirrell stumbled back, covering his ears, spell faltering. Norbert, who had been struggling out of the robes, let out a squeak of surprise, and then-

 _FWOOOOSH!_

A great jet of fire burst over the back of Quirrell's robes and he let out a shrill scream of terror, the magic holding Harry back completely dissipating. Quirrell's arms flailed, nails scratching Harry across the face as Harry stumbled forward, choking and breathing heavily, whispering the counterspell. He coughed, falling onto his hands and knees, Quirrell fleeing into the night, still aflame. Harry tried to laugh, but it made his throat hurt.

"IS EVERYONE ALRIGHT OVER THERE?" A light was moving towards Harry from the track, though he could barely see it. His eyes were watering still and all he could think was that he needed to take out his contacts. He stumbled over to Norbert, who was hissing off into the distances, spikes raised and claws out.

"Over here!' Harry called in a raspy voice and the light moved towards him. Harry reached out to stroke Norbert's wing. "Thanks, buddy."

He glanced up, and all of a sudden, Charlie Weasley was there.

Charlie Weasley didn't look like any of the Weasleys Harry had met so far. He was big and broad. Well, he was short, but Harry was far shorter, and from the angle Harry was at, Charlie looked about eight feet tall. He dropped down to a knee by Harry, eyes filled with concerned. He was so freckled that he put Ron to shame.

"Are you okay?" Charlie asked, placing one hand on Harry's shoulder gently. Harry started to speak, but lapsed into a coughing fit, rubbing his throat. "Relax, just breathe. No rush." Charlie assured him.

If Harry had to take a guess, he would say Charlie was a lot like his mom. There was something very warm and homey about him, despite being a broad man that worked with dragons. He was currently wearing a jacket, but Harry imagined he had all sorts of scars. Just in the few days Harry had known Norbert, the little dragon had left him with plenty of knicks across his hands and forearms that he was certain were going to scar, regardless of severity.

"Thanks." Harry croaked out.

"What happened?"

"Got into a fight with the wrong kind of creature." Harry lied. "You spent a lot of time in the forest, I'm sure you can imagine." Charlie frowned.

"I don't think that's true."

"Not really." Harry coughed, and Charlie extended a hand, helping Harry up. He snatched up Norbert too, setting him gently into the crook of his arm.

"What's going on? Who attacked you?" Charlie wanted to know.

"Some _thing_." Harry confessed, unable to think up a believable lie. "It's been drinking unicorn blood in the forest.."

"And the headmaster knows this?" Charlie demanded. Harry nodded.

"He's playing some kind of bigger game though. Suppose it's probably my fault for being here anyways." Charlie frowned deeper.

"This isn't safe. I'm guessing the students don't know?" He asked. Harry nodded. Charlie narrowed his eyes. "I'll talk to my mom. She'll get something done about it." Harry almost laughed, imagining Quirrell being chased through the woods by fat Ministry officials.

"I'm sure she will. In the meantime, as long as I stick with your brothers, I'll be fine." Harry snorted to himself, almost stumbling over a root. Charlie reached out and steadied him.

"Why did they send you out here alone, again?" Harry laughed. "I'm going to have a long talk with them." Charlie crossed one arm over his chest, still cradling Norbert in the other.

"Don't worry about it, I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine, and it's not fine."

"What're you gonna do, write a strongly worded letter?"

"If I have to." Charlie smiled at him. "Not that I don't think you can handle yourself, but you shouldn't have to. Especially not against the mysterious entity you don't feel like telling me about."

"I don't know anything about it." Harry said defensively.

"And the moon is made of cheese and we're not smuggling a baby dragon through the woods." Harry laughed, again. "I'll have a long discussion with them later. You look tired and it's too late for little firsties to be up." Harry made a face, but truthfully, he was bone tired and his throat hurt. "Here, let's walk over to the track, I can take you back to your dorm from there." Charlie promised, steering Harry gently with one hand. Harry was grateful for it, because it distracted from how violently he was still shaking. "You should have a lozenge before you go to bed."

"Thanks, mom."

"Here, let me clean the wound on your face-," Charlie waved his wand, whispering a spell. He muttered another spell, and Harry felt the shallow wound closing. He felt a spike of annoyance, at his inability to perform healing spells. It wasn't his fault, as Pomfrey said. He couldn't use serious healing magic until his magical core was stabilized, which would be when he was older. After all, there was only so much he could do with potion and salves and he was lucky to be hauling all that shit around when Daphne was hurt, but that wouldn't always be the case.

"So, how do you like Hogwarts so far?" Charlie asked.

"Wizards are weird." Harry said. "I mean, I like Hogwarts, but wizards are generally very unreasonable. They don't make a lot of sense." Charlie laughed.

"You're not wrong. I hear you're enjoying racing though. That you're one hell of a flyer."

"I try." Harry answered dryly, rubbing his arms. Charlie noticed, instantly.

"Are you cold?" Harry started to shake his head, but Charlie was already performing the Warming Charm.

"Thanks." Harry said, as they walked to Charlie's broom, which was hovering above the track. A cage was strapped to it, hanging underneath. Charlie started to load Norbert into the cage, but Harry stopped him for a second, reaching out to the small dragon. Norbert trilled softly and Harry crouched down. "Goodbye, buddy." He whispered, cradling the small dragon in his arms, before loading him back into the cage.

"He'll be safe." Charlie promised. "Who knows, one day you may even be able to come see him." Harry opted for a change in subject.

"Didn't anyone come with you? Isn't it a little dangerous to just send you off on your own to pick up a dragon?"

"No, they're just waiting for me in Hogsmeade. We figured it would be easier for just one of us to sneak in. They're just a distress call away." Charlie slid onto the broom and tapped the space in front of him. "Here, get on, I'll fly you back."

"I can walk." Harry offered. "It's no problem."

"Like I'm going to let you _walk_ back after all that. No way."

"I can ride on the back if that's more comfortable." Harry offered, but Charlie shook his head.

"No, I don't want to shift and have you sliding off the end mid-flight."

"I am in fact, a pretty good flyer."

"There will be no more risks than necessary on my watch."

"Thanks, mom." Harry mocked him again.

XXXX

Charlie dropped him off at his dorm, waving goodbye to his little brother who peered out through the window. Harry went to wash up, giving Ron and Neville looks to silence them when they tried to ask about his throat. Thankfully, Dean and Seamus were asleep.

"I'll tell you tomorrow." Harry said. "Just not tonight. I'm tired." Ron switched subjects.

"So, how do you like Charlie?"

"He's nice." Harry said. "Makes a lot of sense." Ron frowned.

"Makes a lot of sense?"

"Not a lot of wizards do." Harry said with a shrug. "He's the most reasonable Weasley yet." Neville huffed out a small laugh.

"Sorry Ron, but he's got a bit of a point."

"Oh, whatever." Ron said, throwing his hands up into the air.

XXXX

I feel like I've made some grammatical errors along the way? Feel free to point them out to me.

So how'd you guys like it?

The next two or three chapters should be wrapping up first year, actually. Once we get past Christmas, the rest should fly by, after all. Second year's going to be a wild time, but I think third year is gonna be something I'm looking forward to very much. I don't believe second year will take nearly as long as first year did though.

Anyways, thanks so much for reading! Leave a review on the way out!


	9. Chapter 9

Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since my last update. I've just had a lot of stuff. As much as I love writing this, it's hard not to put it on the backburner when other things are happening in my life. Anyways, I'm glad to be back with an update! I figure I've probably got 2-3 chapters left in first year, or at least I hope. I might do more, but shorter chapters.

Anyways, it's been a long time so I can't really remember if I had anything to address in the author's note, so let's get right to it!

XXXX

"I think I know why you're so naive." Blaise announced as the two of them walked to Transfiguration.

"Oh, this is gonna be good."

"No, I mean it. It's because you think like a Muggle." Blaise said. Harry rolled his eyes.

"No shit. Thank you so much, Sherlock Holmes. I don't know how we would get by without you." Blaise ignored his snide comments.

"No, because in primary, wizard kids are specifically taught not to make the straightforward assumptions that you do. Magic is wacky. Things are never as straightforward and simple as they seem."

"You're taught this?" Harry said incredulously. "This is not the kind of critical thinking skills we were supposed to learn. Is primary like your preschool but for wizarding kids?"

"Probably." Blaise said with a shrug. "But I mean it. I couldn't figure out how to say this last time, but I can now. You think the simplest solution is usually the right one. And that makes sense, in the Muggle world. But we go through specific schooling to drill into us how to think differently. Magic makes anything possible. You can't assume the action and the reaction. Anything could happen and you have to be open to it if you want to survive in the Magical World. That's not how you think."

"I'm surviving just fine, thank you very much." Harry responded. Blaise shook his head.

"For now. Before our actions have real consequences."

"You're telling me that chasing that _thing_ through the woods isn't a part of the _real_ world? There are no _real_ consequences?" Harry was taken aback. Blaise shrugged again.

"Magic has a death rate. So does Hogwarts. A couple of students die every once in awhile. They've been trying to fix it, but that's just how it is."

"This is literally ridiculous." Blaise waved his hand dismissively.

"We're powerful." He said. "Harry, you don't get that. There are two things we are taught definitively while we're young, and that is not to think straightforwardly, and to let things be. All wizards, are so _powerful_. We can defy laws of physics at _will_. We can _control_ life and death. So we're taught...not to. To just let it be. To not seek power like that. To not want that kind of glory. We're so powerful that if we interfered with every little thing, the world would be falling apart. You just have to let things play out sometimes."

"Let the cookie crumble where it may?" Blaise made a face.

"I wouldn't put it like that, but yes. You just have to let things run their course. Bad, good, it'll all even out."

"You can't just sit by and do _nothing_!" Harry protested. "You can't just lay down and _take it_ and subject yourself to some crazy circular reasoning and every time something goes wrong just sit back and go _c'est la_ fucking _vie._ "

"You're wrong." Blaise said flatly. "It's the unspoken code of wizards, and what you're not understanding is the only times things have gone well and truly wrong in the Wizarding World is when someone defied that. Emeric the Evil. Grindelwald. Voldemort. They weren't inherently more powerful than other wizards; they weren't blood mages and devils. They just thought differently. They defied the status quo; they wanted change. Maybe they wanted it to better the lives of wizards, but they wanted _power, change, superiority._ They chased after the power over life and death because they knew they _could_ have it and look what they did to everyone else."

"I thought your family supported Voldemort." Harry said.

"We didn't support anyone. Everyone knows, deep down, that his ideology would never work anyways. It was too costly, it changed too much in the status quo. But there are plenty with an aggressive ideology that they would never have truly acted on, until it was join or die. Change is a dangerous thing, Harry. It's more dangerous than you can imagine. Even Dumbledore won't push too far; even as an advocate of Muggleborn rights, have you ever seen him push for substantial, fundamental change? It's because he knows better."

"And doing nothing is better?"

"Yes. It is."

"I can't believe that." Harry said.

"Because you're a Muggle and your entire civilization isn't at risk. Muggle empires have the luxury of being able to rise and fall. If the Wizarding World falls, it will never rise again, because then the Muggles will _know_." Harry opened his mouth, to give a sharp retort or something of the like, but closed it again.

"But there is still some degree of-,...-you can't just..." He struggled.

"Give it a rest, Harry. You can talk about this when you're educated on the issue. I was born into this. I've had _years_ to think about this. You can't fight me on the fundamental principle of the Wizarding World after being here for a few months."

"I can't even articulate how angry I am." The corner of Blaise's mouth lifted.

"I'll admit you have a good strategy though." Blaise said. "Powering through things and not letting other people get a word in edgewise. If you act like it's true, it's almost like you can make it true. It's good. You should keep it up. Just not with me." Harry scowled.

"I fucking hate this." Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on. You're being childish."

"I am a child." Harry said petulantly.

"And you choose _now_ to act like one?" Harry stuck out his tongue.

"Why not? Everyone else gets to." He protested.

"You're not like everyone else." Blaise pointed out. "You're not like the other kids here, and you never will be."

"Oh, fuck off. And here, I thought that coming to Hogwarts would mean that I wasn't the weird kid anymore. That the weird things that happened to me would stop happening." Blaise shrugged.

"Well, you thought wrong." Blaise stopped for a moment. "And they don't by any means, just _happen_ to you. You actively _seek_ trouble, so stop complaining." Harry scowled. "Anyways, class is right here."

"I'm too worked up to transfigure birds right now." Harry snapped, as he followed Blaise into the brightly lit classroom. Blaise ignored him with a shrug.

"Become the bird."

"Did you literally just say that to me? Say that again oh my god." Blaise continued to ignore Harry, throwing his bag down on the floor next to his seat, before slumping against the desk. "I think I hallucinated this entire conversation." Blaise snorted.

"Are you going to work on that stupid bat spell again?" Blaise asked.

"Well, yeah." He admitted. Blaise pointed to the door.

"You're doing that in the hallway." Harry scowled in response.

"Oh, come on."

"No, I mean it. That was the last time I get attacked by insanely aggressive birds."

"Stop complaining, you were fine."

"That is not true at all." Blaise raised his hand and McGonagall came over, peering at the two boys over the rim of her glasses.

"Yes, Mr. Zabini?"

"Can Harry go practice that stupid bat spell in the hallway?" McGonagall paused for a second, as if she was thinking about it

"Yes, I think that would limit his disruptions to the class." Harry snatched up his bag, glaring at Blaise, who grinned back. "You may come back in when you believe you have it under control." McGonagall said, stepping aside.

Blaise waved cheerfully as Harry left the room. Harry rolled his eyes back.

XXXX

"-and we couldn't help but notice a drawer marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

"You _didn't_." Harry started to grin.

"Dropped a Dungbomb, whipped it open, and grabbed a handful of fun things and skedaddled out of there." George grinned at Harry. "Filch has all kinds of fun things in his office. Confiscated items, rows upon rows of filing cabinets just filled with records-,"

"I would love to go through those sometime, just see what he has written down." Fred said. "Because as you know, students come and go, but Filch is _forever_."

"Wait, they're all _student_ records?" Dean asked. "For _everyone_?" George nodded.

"Not just those who get in trouble either. Everyone's record is there."

"What about teachers?" Harry asked curiously.

"I think those are in Dumbledore's office." Fred said. "But I mean, all of the teachers here _went_ to Hogwarts. Their student record should still be on file. Could you imagine McGonagall as a wee little firstie? I would kill to see what's on her file."

"Wait, you're telling me that Filch has records from decades ago, from _other_ caretakers just sitting in his office, taking up space? How on earth do they all fit?" Harry demanded, frowning. Fred snorted.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course they're not all in his _office_. His office links to a large storage locker. There's a door that leads to the record room."

"Why so curious Harry?" George asked, shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "Want to do a little digging?" Harry glanced around the table, trying to avoid eye contact with the eager faces of the young Gryffindors.

"No, I'm just wondering what kind of information they actually have on us. On the teachers too." Harry rubbed his jaw.

"Y'know, Gred, I think ickle Harrykins has an idea."

"It would appear so, Forge." They leaned in, practically leering with excitement. "I also think Harrykins might want to involve us." Harry grinned back.

"Don't worry; you already are."

XXXX

"I'm just saying," Harry said, shoving a portion of his sandwich into his mouth, ignoring Blaise's disgusted look. "There's no better opportunity. Dumbledore's not gonna miss the first Gryffindor match, because, y'know, blatant favoritism."

"Harry." Blaise said.

"And I seriously doubt Dumbledore would keep anything of value in his office; he's already hiding something important behind a Cerberus and trolls and presumably, others-,"

"Harry." Harry swallowed and scowled.

" _What?_ "

"We will get _expelled_." Blaise hissed, narrowing his eyes. "I know how much you love your little adventures, but you're not _getting it_. When it comes to Quirrell and Longbottom and all of that, we can say we did it in the best interest of our safety and our classmates'. But breaking into the headmaster's office will get us _expelled_."

"Only if we get caught." Harry said.

" _We will!_ " Blaise made a frustrated noise, pressing the heel of his hand into his face. "Harry, if we get expelled, you're screwed. Me, I can go to Durmstrang. You _can't_. You're a Muggleborn student, Hogwarts is your only _option_. If you get expelled, you're done. They might even snap your wand for trespassing in Dumbledore's office. You will _never_ learn magic again." Harry paused for a moment, thinking about the gravity of what he was proposing. Blaise sighed.

"Tramping around in the woods is one thing; breaking into Dumbledore's office is another."

"Y'know, I survived before having magic, I think I can do so after." Blaise threw his hands up.

"You're crazy. You're actually crazy." Harry shrugged.

"Dumbledore's not gonna expel us. Not for this. We know too much."

"About what?" Blaise demanded.

"About everything. And you come from an affluent family. You have affluent friends. If word got out about Quirrell, about the Cerberus, about the attacks on Neville, his career would be in shambles. He's not gonna risk it." Harry wasn't actually sure how much he believed what he was saying, but he didn't have time to doubt himself now.

"That's not a chance I'm willing to take!" Blaise stared at Harry incredulously. The dark-haired boy shrugged again in response.

"Then don't. You don't have to be a part of this. I'll recruit Daphne." Blaise made a face.

"She won't agree to this either."

"I think she will." Harry offered earnestly. "She's just reckless enough to agree to it. I'm just saying, this isn't going to be as hard as you think it will. Dumbledore's office is protected by a password. And I mean, probably a whole bunch of enchantments, but as long as I know the password, they're not gonna keep me out. I'm not going to go after anything besides staff files." There had been plenty of delinquents in the orphanage growing up for Harry to pick up a thing or two. In fact, most of the older boys at the orphanage were well on their way to becoming criminals, if not already there. Doomed by statistically validated destiny from the moment they entered the system. If it hadn't been for the reveal of the wizarding world, Harry would have probably followed a similar path.

The orphanage was full of pickpockets, thieves, trespassers, and thugs. Everyone was looking to get ahead and given their likely future, Harry didn't blame them. In fact, it was thanks to them he'd developed a good right hook and thick headedness beyond reason. Things that had served him well.

The foster system bred a certain kind of person; Harry didn't think it always had to be a bad thing.

"How are you going to get the password?" Blaise demanded.

"Fred and George." Harry said. "Who else?" They had some kind of...map that they had stolen from Filch. It showed entrances, people, passwords. Everything, charted in real time. It was incredible.

Not that Harry's usage was free; Fred and George naturally wanted a favor from Harry for lending him their magical map. The favor would be revisited at a different date, but Harry wasn't too worried about owing the Twins.

"Don't you need a lookout?" Blaise wanted to know. Harry shook his head.

"Nah, Fred and George have...given me an item to assist with that. You don't need to worry about it."

"Then what _do_ you need?" Blaise snapped.

"I just need you to keep Dumbledore at the game. Slow him down or something, just in case something goes wrong." Blaise blinked.

"How in Merlin's baggy pants am I supposed to do that?" Harry shrugged.

"Improvise. I don't know, set Snape on fire or something. It probably won't be a problem. Just give me an hour at least."

"This is a fucking stupid idea and you're an idiot."

"Then don't help me." Harry retorted. "If you don't want to be a part of this, then don't. I don't care. I don't need your help." Blaise glowered at Harry, mouth twisted into a snarl.

"I don't get you. Sometimes you're normal and clever, and then the next moment you're acting like every other thick-headed Gryffindor who thinks stupidity is the same thing as bravery."

"Can't you at least try and see _why_ this is important?" Harry snapped. Blaise crossed his arms and shrugged, making a face.

"Educate me." He sneered.

"We have a literal _murderer_ in our midst. Whatever Quirrell's done, he's been fucking with some really dark shit. He's not afraid to kill and I wouldn't doubt for a second he has before. He didn't hesitate to fire an Unforgivable at us and he is _trying_ to kill Neville. He's not here to watch and play with us forever. He's going to do _something_ and someone will die because Dumbledore's got a _plan_." Harry gritted his teeth. "We're all in _serious_ danger. This is our opportunity to find out more and I'm not sitting by and doing nothing. _You_ can do whatever you want, but this is important to me." Harry set his jaw and held Blaise's gaze, refusing to break first.

After a moment, Blaise sighed, and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, shaking his head, before looking back up.

"Fine. I'll help you. But the moment things get suspicious, I'm going to cut and run and you can count on that. You should too." Harry grinned.

"Aw, I knew you'd come arou-,"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

XXXX

Dumbledore's office was...messy.

Seriously.

It was a total wreck. Crammed from floor to ceiling with all kinds of trinkets, all available wall space jammed with photos of previous headmasters. And a _staircase_ , leading out to some sort of outcropping that was open to the air.

Harry made a face at the unnecessary extravagance. Why did Dumbledore need a _fireplace_?

"What are you doing here, young man?" Harry glanced up to see one of the portraits talking directly to him, while the others seemed content to ignore him. He squinted to see the label. _Phineas Nigellus Black_.

"Investigating." Harry answered truthfully. "You wouldn't happen to know where Dumbledore keeps his staff files, do you?" Black squinted back at him.

"You look familiar. What family do you come from, boy?"

"I don't come from any family. I'm a Muggleborn." A disgusted look passed over Black's face.

"A _Mudblood_. In the office of the _headmaster_. How appalling." Harry shrugged.

"Hey, I didn't seek this out. You people sent _me_ an invitation." Harry approached Dumbledore's desk, taking careful note of the set-up on the desk and being sure not to disturb it. He started pulling drawers open, ignoring the first one full of strange knickknacks.

"What are you looking for?" Black asked curiously.

"Staff files." Harry said.

"Why?"

"Dumbledore keeps suspicious people on staff." Harry answered without looking up, as he pulled open a drawer full of papers. It wasn't staff files, but other records. Papers, letters, and whatnot.

"You wouldn't happen to be talking about that Quirrell fellow, would you?"

"Yep." Black clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Such a strange man. And ill-suited to his position. I advised Dumbledore against hiring him, but Dumbledore is not the kind of man who takes advice, even from those who are older and wiser. What has Quirrell done now?"

"Enough."

"Fine then. Don't tell me." One letter in particular caught Harry's eye. He yanked it out of the mess of papers, unfurling it and trying to skim it. The letters were morphing into dancing shapes, unreadable and completely indecipherable. Harry assumed Dumbledore must have cast some sort of spell on his letter to render it illegible to anyone but himself. Harry tore through the drawer, looking at other letters, but most letters were spell-free. Convinced that what he held in his hand was important, he jammed it in his pocket.

" _Theft is a crime, you know."_ Harry jumped at the familiar volt, his head snapping to the side. There, on another bookcase crammed with seemingly useless items, was the Sorting Hat, ragged and sagging, but looking at Harry with great interest. " _Only a few months and you're already getting yourself into trouble."_ The Hat said, a hint of amusement in its strange expression.

"Yeah, what's your point?" Harry responded, crossing his arms.

" _No point, just an observation. It is what I do, after all._ " The Hat seemed to smile at him. " _How has Gryffindor been treating you?"_

"Fine." Harry said.

" _You know, I almost expected Mr. Longbottom to precede you."_ Harry narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

" _In this office. I expected to see Mr. Longbottom first, but I suppose he isn't quite the Gryffindor you are._ "

"Now you're just being an ass." Harry said. "Quit it. Neville's just as much of a Gryffindor as I am." The Hat smiled wryly at him. "What?" Harry snapped.

" _You have quite the future ahead of you, Mr. Kasinger. These halls will echo with the ramifications of your actions for years to come._ "

"What, you can see the future now too?"

" _No, but I know you. I've been in your head, you see. What no one else sees, I see."_

"That is some vague bullshit if I've ever heard it." Harry responded. The Hat grinned back.

" _Maybe I should have put you in Slytherin."_

"Maybe you should have." Harry retorted. "Dunno why you didn't. I didn't ask you not to."

" _You didn't have to._ "

"Why are you talking to me, again?" The Hat took on a cryptic tone.

" _Not so far into the future, you will grow too big for these halls. Too ambitious. You will reach towards a future you will have the power to shape. Mark my words, Mr. Kasinger. You will be a 'doer'. You will take action when others will not._ "

"You sound ominous." The Hat held eye contact with Harry.

" _I never said it was a good thing._ "

"Fuck off." Harry spun on his heel and started ripping open other drawers, searching for Quirrell's file.

" _We're not done yet, Mr. Kasinger!"_

"We are now!" Harry shot back, refusing to look back up at the Hat. The Hat just wanted to cause trouble; Harry imagined it got pretty bored sitting on a shelf 364 days of the year.

Finally, Harry found the drawer labeled with staff files. As much as Harry would have killed to just sit there and comb through the files of every staff member, he was on a mission and he had wasted enough time already. He pulled out Quirrell's file and laid it on top of the desk, unfurling a roll of parchment. He cast a quick spell to copy the contents, the end of his wand sparking. He frowned, casting it again.

 _Oh no._

Some items were charmed to prevent copying, such as some books in the Restricted Section of the library.

"Encountered a problem, have we?" Harry was gonna break the portrait in half.

"Shut up." Harry snapped. He jammed his hands in his bookbag, rummaging for a pen. He had kept a few from the Muggle world, only using them in secret after getting harassed by a few pureblood Gryffindors for the far more efficient Muggle invention. He could always just take important notes, right?

He skimmed the file, checking its length. As he did, he felt an building sense of dread after he flipped through page after page of parchment. He didn't have time to write all this down!

He _did_ have time to write down the first page. The first page didn't have all that much information anyways, just height, weight, history as a Hogwarts student. And Quirrell didn't have much history. He'd been sorted into Ravenclaw upon his arrival and had a clean record. The next few pages mentioned teacher concerns, cases of bullying, but Quirinus Quirrell had never been in trouble for anything. Harry jotted down the most basic information and then started tearing off pieces of parchment that were roughly the same size of the rest of the pages. When he had set aside a satisfying amount, he took out every page in the file except the first, replacing it with blank pieces of parchment. He took the actual pages for himself.

He spun around, checking the large clock hanging on Dumbledore's wall. He had been there for a little more than a half hour. Discreetly, he checked the map the Twins had given him under his desk, what they called the Marauder's Map. Dumbledore was still firmly planted at the Quidditch game, with Blaise lingering nearby. Quidditch games normally lasted at _least_ an hour, usually more, so Harry had a little more time. He glanced around the office.

If Dumbledore discovered the break-in, Harry would never have another chance to rummage through his office.

It was _so_ time to check out Snape's file.

He was just about to pull the man's file when a voice interrupted him.

"That's quite enough, now." Harry's head snapped upward to look at the slightly frowning face of Phineas Nigellus Black. "You've gotten what you came for, it's time to leave." Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Are you going to tell Dumbledore I was here?" Harry asked.

"Only if you don't leave now." Harry considered his options. He would never get another chance like this. Dumbledore would most certainly discover the break-in and tighten up security considerably.

However, he wouldn't know it was Harry who broke in. Not for sure. Not unless the portrait told him so. If the portrait snitched on Harry, he could be expelled. Harry didn't want to risk it.

"Alright then. Thanks." Harry said, a bit surprised.

"Don't thank me. Albus has this coming. If he's not going to investigate, I suppose it's just as well that the first years have started to." The portrait sniffed. "You're bold and intelligent; you would have been a great blessing to your house. It's such a shame you're a Mudblood."

"I hear that sometimes." Harry suppressed a snort. He closed the drawers, double checking to make sure everything was in place. He spun back around, a small, but empty bird stand catching his eye. Just his luck that Dumbledore's familiar was out on business; he'd heard the phoenix had a way of getting information back to the headmaster.

His eyes slid over the large sword mounted in a glass case on the wall as he left the alcove. It caught his eye briefly. _Godric Gryffindor_ was spelled out on the blade, the hilt already claimed by the ornate detailing. The ruby encrusted hilt glimmered in the light.

"The sword of Gryffindor." Black said. "It's a bit gaudy, isn't it?"

"It's flashy, I'll give you that." Harry responded. "See you another time, Black."

XXXX

"I don't understand this game." Harry said, sitting on the bleachers beside Blaise, even as the crowd was all motion. Something had just happened. Harry didn't know what. But something had happened. A ball went into a hoop or something like it.

Blaise sighed.

"I can't explain this to you in the amount of time we have."

It's not that Quidditch didn't seem like fun; Harry could see the appeal behind the game. But half the time, the tiny, darting figures were moving too fast for Harry to really see. And then there was the Snitch; Harry didn't understand why the Seeker was a position. In his opinion, it seemed like it ruined the game, since whoever caught the Snitch was the winner. Not always, but often enough that it seemed to undermine the rest of the players. It would be more fun to play than to watch, but Harry hadn't cared enough about it to join the team. He wouldn't have had the time to commit anyways.

"What just happened?" Harry asked. "I can't see; the people in front are too tall."

"The Ravenclaw Seeker almost caught the Snitch; got hit with a bludger at the last second." Normally the first game of the year was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, but some of the Slytherin team had been caught with a bottle of firewhisky and bad food they had snuck in from Hogsmeade. Half the team was being punished and the other half was violently ill. Snape had thrown a tantrum at the mere prospect of forfeiting so McGonagall and Snape had maneuvered to swap the match with the Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff match. A move that was both unpopular and unfair.

"Who's the Ravenclaw Seeker?" Harry asked.

"I dunno."

"That's helpful." Blaise shrugged.

"Whatever. Anyways, we can really dig into the letter late; I know a few books we can pick up from the Restricted Section that might help us with it. We can probably break the spell if it's how you described."

"I mean, wouldn't _he_ have put some heavy protections on the letter if it was important?" Harry asked. They had moved away from the professors in order to keep their conversation more private. They were still avoiding using any professors' names in case their classmates were eavesdropping.

"I doubt it; it was still being kept at the school."

"Well, there are clearly _other_ important things in unprotected places, like personal and professional records." Harry said pointedly.

"Okay, but what is there _that_ important in the record? Hogwarts history, his work history. Basic stuff. Not anything crucial that needs to be protected at all costs. I mean, it's helpful for us, but if Fred or George were to happen upon it, they would have no idea what to do with it."

"That's true." Harry agreed.

"We'll talk about this later." Blaise said, before adding in a dry tone, "Just try to enjoy the game for now."

XXXX

"Hello?" Harry called up the staircase. He could swear he had heard crying and didn't want to surprise anyone. "Is anyone there?" He had become accustomed to taking the back staircases up to the common room, even when he wasn't breaking curfew.

He heard a quiet curse and then rustling as the person tried to scramble off the stairs as fast as they could. He was surprised anyone was here; he had thought that everyone had gone back to the common room after the Quidditch game.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked. "I won't come up if you don't want me to." The person paused.

"Harry?" The dark-haired boy was taken aback.

"Hermione?" He asked in a slightly hushed tone, glancing around for witnesses. "Are you okay?"

"Y-you can come up." She sounded a bit strange, like she was talking with a lisp. "Is there anyone else with you?"

"No." Harry said, slowly climbing the stairs. He caught a glance of the bushy-haired firstie as he rounded the corner, but she instantly buried her face in her hands, bushy, curly hair providing a curtain of separation. He took a seat next to her on the staircase. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Promise me you won't laugh." She said, voice muffled.

"I won't laugh." She sniffled and removed her hands, lifting her head.

Harry's eyes widened.

Someone had hexed Hermione, casting a spell to make her teeth grow beyond normal bounds. Her front teeth were currently too large to fit in her mouth, about halfway down her chin and slowly growing longer.

When Hermione saw the shock in his eyes, she burst into tears again.

"No, Hermione...it's okay. Let me take you to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey can fix this." Harry assured her, touching her arm uncertainly.

"I'm so embarrassed!" She wailed. "I don't want to go in and ask her to shrink my teeth for me!"

"I'll come with you." Harry promised. "It'll be fine. She won't laugh, or think any less of you. It happens all the time." Not that long ago, Harry himself had been sitting in the Hospital Wing, vomiting slugs into a bucket. The circumstances were much different, but the point was that Madam Pomfrey saw everyone at their worst.

"Okay..." Hermione sniffled. "Just don't let anyone see me."

"I won't." Harry promised. "How did this happen, if you don't mind my asking?" Hermione's bottom lip trembled against her oversized front teeth.

"Malfoy..." Hermione muttered.

" _Malfoy?_ " Harry was going to _kill_ him.

"Well, it was Pansy specifically, but it was his group, y'know...they said I was getting too presumptuous for a Mudblood." She gently touched her teeth, and Harry reached up and took her hand down.

"Don't do that, you're just gonna freak yourself out."

"How do you deal with it?" Hermione asked. "The laughter. The teasing. The looks. Everyone _constantly_ talking down to you."

"I don't let them. Or I don't let it bother me."

"But you _must_ still see all those...oh, what's the word, m-microaggressions. All the slight remarks, the subtle things." Hermione looked him dead in the eyes. "Harry, they think of us as little more than cattle." Harry sighed.

"I know." Oh, and he _hated_ it. It wasn't that people were cruel to him on a regular basis. There were people who would occasionally engage in particularly cruel or outwardly bigoted comments and behavior. But it was the everyday things; that Harry could _tell_ he was barely human in their eyes. It was in their eyes, their behavior, the tiny ways they referred to him or spoke to him. It was always there. It wasn't like Harry could throw down and go after someone specific for just one thing. It was the culmination of everything by everyone that made him crazy and he just didn't know how to put that in words. Or even what to do about it.

Even people like Ron or Neville. They didn't mean to do it. They weren't racists or bigots. They had just internalized the prejudice they had been around all their lives. They were just repeating what others had said.

No matter what, Harry and Hermione were still _different_ to them.

"What do you _do_?" Hermione reached up to touch her teeth again. Harry stopped her.

"I make them hate me. I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with, and that's on purpose. I don't want them thinking I'm afraid of anything. I want _them_ to be afraid to be around me, much less express their opinions to my face."

"But they do it behind our backs too."

"I know. I'm working on that."

"You'd rather be feared and hated than looked down on?" Hermione had begun picking at her skin.

"Yes." Harry answered without missing a beat.

"I don't know if I can do that, Harry."

"I know." Harry said. He put an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "That's why us Mudbloods have to stick together." Hermione sniffled.

"You're a good person, Harry." He gave her a small smile. "I mean it. You act really mean sometimes, but you're not. You just want people to think you are."

"Let's keep that between us."

Harry took Hermione up to the Hospital Wing, staying with her the entire time. When Madam Pomfrey asked what had happened, Harry backed up Hermione's lie, that it was an accident. Pomfrey looked suspicious, giving Harry pointed looks throughout the ordeal, but she had no concrete proof to make them crack. Though, Hermione had been sweating bullets the entire time.

Even if Harry had told Madam Pomfrey what had happened, what would have happened? Nothing at all. Or the Slytherins would get off with a slap on the wrist. Or it would turn into Hermione's word against the Slytherins. McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey would most likely believe Harry, but Harry hadn't actually been there for the event and his word meant nothing in that case. Blood supremacy wasn't treated like a _problem_ at Hogwarts. It was treated as something that just _happened_ , as if it were a simple schoolyard fight between children. Even the teachers didn't seem to think there would be far-reaching consequences. It wasn't preferable, but it was _acceptable._

It made Harry want to scream.

When Madam Pomfrey left the room briefly, Harry leaned in towards Hermione.

"Tomorrow morning, come with me after breakfast."

"Why?" Hermione whispered.

"We are going to take care of this together." She paled.

"Harry! You don't mean-?"

"Yes. I do mean. Don't worry. I promise you that you will not get hit by a single spell. You just have to give them hell."

"Harry, this is a bad idea-," Hermione was beginning to chew on her lip with her newly shrunken teeth. She had Madam Pomfrey shrink them just below their original size, but Harry pretended he hadn't noticed. "What if we get in trouble?"

"You won't get in trouble." Harry promised her. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"I'm pretty sure you have."

" _Trust me_."

"I-i'll think about it."

XXXX

"Harry, I can't do this." Hermione planted herself in the hallway, hugging herself nervously. Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand.

"Yes, you can. And you should."

"Harry, I _can't_. I'm not like you." Harry started to drag her down the hall while she resisted.

"Hermione." He said through gritted teeth. "You are the smartest witch in our entire grade. You could be scary as fuck if you wanted to be."

"That's exactly the point! I don't want to be!" She tried to pull her hand back, but Harry held on tight.

"I know you wanna be kind and friendly, but that doesn't mean letting people walk all over you. Sometimes, you gotta be mean so you can be nice."

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"It's important that you do this!" Harry threw all his weight forward, but Hermione had grabbed onto the wall.

"If you care so much about this, then do it yourself!"

"They're already afraid of me! They need to learn a healthy fear of you!"

"I don't want people to be afraid of me!" Hermione cried out. Harry dropped her hand and she nearly fell down, holding onto the wall and pulling herself up. She wrapped her arms around herself again. "Harry, I don't want people to be afraid of me." Harry sighed.

"It's not about them being afraid of you. They have to know there are going to be consequences to their actions. Because there are none. They can get away with it if we don't _do_ something about it. They just have to know that they can't fuck with you." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. "Hermione, it's like you said. We are _cattle_ to them. We don't get the luxury of normalcy. If we give them an inch, they'll take a mile. We have to _fight back._ " Hermione rubbed her eyes, sighing. She peeked out over her hands.

"You'll protect me, right?"

"I _promise_."

XXXXX

"Kasinger? What the hell is going on?" Malfoy demanded to know, briefly losing his composure. He was with his groupies, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Nott, and Yaxley being the primary offenders. Blaise had told Harry that after breakfast everyday, Malfoy and his group liked to touch base in this particular hallway.

"Malfoy ." Harry started. Malfoy's eyes slid briefly to Hermione, who standing further back, hugging herself nervously.

"What's going on?" Malfoy demanded. Harry shrugged, refusing to answer.

"What are the Mudbloods doing here?" Pansy asked in an obnoxious tone. "This is a private meeting." She glared at Hermione, who hugged herself tighter.

"Kasinger, whatever you're doing, you're going to regret it." Harry glanced back to Hermione, who was staring at Harry, looking terrified. He nodded at her.

Malfoy realized what was happening.

"Shi-,"

" _Avifors._ " Harry flicked his wand and sprang back, throwing up a shield in front of him and Hermione, just in time for a red bolt to slam into it. Hermione gasped loudly. "Hermione, COME ON!"

"YOU'VE MADE A MISTAKE, KASINGER! _TARANTALLEGRA!"_

" _Rictusempra!"_

" _DENSUEGO!"_ Three spells slammed into the shield, but they were weak and Harry held strong.

" _I-immobilus!"_ Hermione missed, unsurprisingly.

"WITH FEELING!"

"SHE'S JUST A FUCKING MUDBLOOD, KASINGER!"

" _IMMOBILUS!_ " The spell hit one of the Slytherins. " _L-LANGLOCK!"_ Harry's shield shattered and Hermione's eyes widened as she let out a frightened squeak. Harry wasn't worried; it was only a basic shield. They weren't meant to hold.

" _Obscuro!"_ He fired at Crabbe, who freaked out, grabbing at the blindfold frantically. " _Petrificus totalus!"_ The large boy froze up and tipped like a domino, crashing into Goyle, who shrieked and sent a spell flying as he was crushed by his large companion. It flew towards Hermione, but Harry sprang in front and blocked it. "Keep going!" He encouraged Hermione, who glanced at him unsurely, just as Harry blocked another spell.

" _L-locomotor mortis!"_ The spell had Nott toppling over with a yelp, grabbing onto Yaxley's robes as he went down, pulling his wand out of his hand on accident.

"You're doing great!" Harry said to Hermione, blocking a spell from Malfoy. There was a distinct difference between Hermione's spells and the Slytherins'; while most of Malfoy's gang were sticking to the easy schoolyard ones they were familiar with, Hermione's were much more mature. Harry recognized them from their first year spellbooks. They were spells they were meant to master by the end of the year, but so many students were so far off. Not only was she capable of casting them, but they were _effective_ , which was an entirely different level of mastery. It was one thing to _technically_ make the spell work; it was another to make it work _well_. Harry didn't doubt that the Slytherins were familiar with some dark shit, such as Daphne and Blaise were. But it was one thing to know and another thing to employ it effectively on the spur of the moment. The Slytherins were good; Hermione was just better.

Also, the Slytherins couldn't block for shit.

"MERLIN! What is your _problem_ , Kasinger? I thought we were on good terms?" Malfoy exclaimed, springing away from a spell. Harry shrugged.

The thing is, they had been.

But Harry didn't want to be.

Maybe it was impulsive, but the wave of anger that had roared through him when Hermione told him what happened had instantly wiped out any desire to reconcile or deal with the Slytherin diplomatically. Harry didn't want to have a working relationship. Harry had already established a certain reputation with Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins; they didn't target him the way they did other Muggleborns. It made it easy to forget how absolutely vile and disgusting Malfoy was. The microaggressions and behavior drove him crazy, made him aggressive and antagonistic, but this kind of behavior _infuriated_ him.

"Just stop!" Malfoy said, throwing his hands up. "What is your _fucking problem_?" Pansy backed down as well, and Hermione took a step back, looking to Harry for guidance. Harry shared a brief look with Hermione.

The dark-haired boy proceeded to step up to Malfoy, grabbing him by the shoulder and socking him in the stomach, hard. Malfoy let out a grunt and doubled over.

"You're my _fucking problem._ " Harry hissed.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped. Harry gestured towards Pansy, who looked like a deer in headlights, realizing she was at the mercy of two angry 'Mudbloods'.

"Do whatever you want to her." Hermione looked between the two of them, expression incredulous.

"Harry, _stop_." Harry released Malfoy, who backed up against the wall, sinking to the floor, glaring at Harry. "We're done, okay? We're _done_." Harry crouched down to Malfoy's level.

"We were on good terms." Harry hissed. "But you hurt my friend."

"This is about _yesterday_?" Malfoy sounded genuinely surprised. "But...that was practically nothing!"

"Fuck you."

" _Merlin_ , Kasinger! You could be friends with anybody! What do you expect us to do, just never hurt anyone ever?"

"Well that's the _fucking idea_."

"Harry, let's just go." Hermione was nervously glancing down the hall. Harry scowled, glaring at Malfoy for a few more seconds.

"It was just me here, you got it?" Harry whispered.

" _Harry_." Harry sprang up and followed Hermione out of the hallway. They found a secluded stairwell to hide in, collapsing on the stairs together.

"I feel sick." Hermione said. "That didn't make me feel better." Harry sighed, and rubbed his face.

"It wasn't supposed to. It was to show them you aren't weak."

"I feel like we're just as bad as they are."

"We're not."

"Then why do I feel so sick?"

"Then what _should_ we have done?" Harry snapped. "Told an adult? Turned the other cheek?"

"Well...yes." Hermione said timidly. "I don't think we should have engaged them."

"They aren't little kids pulling on our hair because they like us. They're not _doing_ it to _get a reaction_. They're doing it to _hurt us_. Because they _like to_. Voldemort didn't go away just because people ignored him."

"Then how do we do this, without being the bad guys?" Hermione demanded.

"I don't know. We're not exactly in a position to make massive political reforms." Harry ran a hand through his hair. And their biggest supporter, Albus Dumbledore, would never _actually_ push for any meaningful reform. If he was going to, he would have done it already. After Voldemort's 'death' would have been a perfect time.

And yet...nothing.

"I don't want to just grin and bear it, Harry. But I don't think I can do this." Hermione looked at him earnestly. "I mean, thank you for protecting me. Thank you for helping me. But this is the only time, okay?"

"We're not the bad guys just because we started the fight, Hermione."

"It feels like it." They sat in silence.

XXXX

Unsurprisingly, the attack on Malfoy's gang wasn't reported at all. Harry figured they didn't want to tell their head of house that two Gryffindors got the drop on a group of six. Snape drove them hard, according to Blaise. Failure was not an option.

However, Harry couldn't tell what terms he was on with Malfoy. Was it a truce? Was it a truce of a convenience? Was it a sort of understanding about what had occurred? Were they just going to let it lie, or was Malfoy's gang going to do something in return?

At least if anything happened in retaliation, Harry got the feeling he would be the target, not Hermione. He could handle it. Hermione didn't need to be a part of this growing feud.

"Hey, pay attention when I'm talking." Blaise snapped. Harry blinked, turning to attention.

"Oh, hi. Sorry. Where were we?" Daphne rolled her eyes, knocking her feet together as she sat up against the wall of the old tower.

"We broke the spell, dummy."

"So it _was_ breakable?" Blaise shrugged.

"Yeah, but for good reason. The letter's really fucking vague. It mentions an 'item' in a pretty casual manner, but I'm assuming this is what we're looking for." Blaise said, smoothing the paper of the letter between his fingers. "It _does_ say though, that ' _I am glad to hear that your Heads of House have lent you their aid, as well as two other respected professors,_ ' so I guess that means there are six protections. Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Quirrell."

"Dumbledore probably added something nasty as well." Daphne said.

"Is this pretty much the only major detail?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, pretty much." Daphne said. "It's just like, old man stuff from there on out. Like, oh, how's the school, how are you, it's been so long, etc."

" _But,_ " Blaise began excitedly. "The letter is from _Nicholas Flamel_." Blaise looked to Harry expectantly. Harry had rarely seen Blaise excited like this, but he supposed everyone had their own thing.

"Like, the French guy? Isn't he supposed to be...y'know...dead?" Harry said, blinking.

"He's an alchemist. And not just _any_ alchemist. He created the _Philosopher's Stone_. With it, he can create the Elixir of Life and be _immortal._ "

"I thought that was a myth." Daphne snorted and flicked her hair.

"No, but it's still a fool's errand. Flamel is the only person to successfully create a Philosopher's Stone, but it's been hidden ever since due to its power. People have died searching for it and even more have died trying to create it. Nothing like poison from a fake Philosopher's Stone to kill of a group of aspiring alchemists fresh out of Hogwarts." Daphne explained. "It happens every once in awhile; they really never learn."

"That's...morbid." Harry remarked. "So, is that what we think is at the school?" Harry asked.

"Well, I mean, normally I wouldn't just jump to conclusions. After all, it's safe to assume that Flamel has many other artefacts and items that are incredibly valuable or dangerous, all worth hiding or entrusting to his close friend for safety."

"But we're pretty sure it's the Philosopher's Stone." Daphne said. "Quirrell's been drinking unicorn blood in the forest, which has similar qualities to the Philosopher's Stone. It prolongs life and provides spiritual power, it just doesn't work the same way. The Philosopher's Stone is just more effective and less damaging. It would make sense."

"Wait, are you telling me Quirrell could become _immortal_?" Harry asked incredulously. "Of all the fucking professors-,"

"Yeah, yeah, we know." Blaise cut him off. "Back on topic. I'm assuming that Dumbledore would need someway to _get_ to the stone, in the event something unexpected happens. Meaning, there's another entrance that's not through the traps."

"Yeah, but can we actually _use_ it?" Harry asked.

"Probably not, no." Daphne answered. "After all, Dumbledore wouldn't have it unless it was really, really, inaccessible to everyone else. He wouldn't risk it. But it does exist, most likely."

"I'm just gonna say it now," Blaise began, taking a breath. "I think we should stop here with the Philosopher's Stone. I'm not saying we should stop looking at Quirrell. But I don't think we should try and find this entrance or try and find our way through the traps. We could just be doing all the legwork for Quirrell." Daphne nodded.

"Zabini's right. I think we should let the Philosopher's Stone be. For now, at least. As much as I would love gold and eternal life."

"You're probably right." Harry said. "I mean, after all, we do have _lives_ outside of this. And we've risked so much for this already."

"Some of us more than others." Blaise said, looking pointedly at Harry.

"And you have your own problems to deal with." Blaise said with a nod. Harry furrowed his brow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaise gave him a crooked smile.

"Y'know. With Malfoy." Harry grunted.

"Don't remind me."

"Bold move, what you did." Daphne said. "Dunno if it was smart, but it was certainly bold."

"Hey, if I stopped to think about every single thing I did, I would probably never do them and then where would we be?"

"In bed. Getting good grades. Comfortable." Blaise said. "We can convene at a later date to go over Quirrell's file. I want to sleep."

XXXX

So, how did you guys like it?

I cranked this one out pretty fast, so as always, feel free to send me a review or message and let me know if there are any mistakes! There's probably gonna be a few weird sentences in there, because occasionally I'll write something and then change the sentence partway through. But I'll leave a few weird words here or there because I forgot to delete because I got distracted. I've definitely caught myself doing that before, even in previous chapters already uploaded.

Also, if there are concerns because I left it kind of weird, Harry and Hermione are still friends! She's just not comfortable with his brand of retaliation.

And I'm trying to avoid the Manipulative Dumbledore trope because I want him to be more of a complex character, though I'm not doing a great job of it right now. But at this point Harry has had very little interaction with Dumbledore and I just think he would find it very hard to trust him. He currently doesn't _want_ to see Dumbledore's good side, because he's still young and not quite as understanding of shades of grey yet. Just something to keep in mind.

Additionally, since the whole, breaking-into-Dumbledore's office thing might seem kind of unrealistic, I figure that Dumbledore's office is really only protected by a password in the books? Which is weird? But I mean things of value, such as memories or his pensieve would probably have a bunch of spells and enchantments on them or be locked away so that students really couldn't get to them. I figured that Dumbledore wouldn't really keep any sensitive information in his staff files, i.e. no reason to lock them up seriously. The letter thing is a bit more difficult to make it seem reasonable, but I've tried my best.

I mean, then again, I doubt many students have been willing to risk breaking into the headmaster's office or had the map, or gone through the effort of getting the password. So it could always just be one of those things where like, no one ever thought anyone would be willing to do it so they didn't worry about it, kind of things.

Eh. Whatever. Or I could just accept it at face value as being unrealistic but that's alright anyways. Take it how you will.

Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment, review, or criticism on your way out if you want! I love hearing from you guys!


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